It All Falls Down
by DrunkOnJerichohol
Summary: Roman's big win for his team at Survivor Series '13 sets in motion a chain of events that skyrockets him to levels he never imagined, but if there's one lesson to be learned in success, it is this: absolute power corrupts absolutely. (Rated M for language)
1. When the Bough Breaks

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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_It's your time to shine!_

Seth had spoken those five simple words, just before Roman went on to bring home a win for their power team by eliminating four men from the battle royal: Jimmy Uso, Cody Rhodes, Goldust, and Rey Mysterio, respectively. He had pinned four sets of shoulders to the mat, amidst cheers and gasps from the Boston crowd in attendance, and for the first time in his stable's one-year anniversary, the WWE felt like home. The WWE _was_ his home. Years of being a team player and taking the backseat to those with more obvious talents and special abilities had all been worth the wait, building up to what was essentially his time to shine, as no one knew better than his two loyal teammates, who had been waiting near Gorilla position in the back to greet him the second he stepped through the curtain.

Vince was first to shake Roman's hand, followed by Paul, and Stephanie gave her classic nod of approval that cinched the start of a supreme reign. He was officially on his way up the corporate ladder, moving onto lands previously roamed only by his admittedly much more famous cousin, the one and only Dwayne Johnson. As he accepted handshakes and back pats from the guys, covering his eyes when he walked through a celebratory stream of champagne being aimed his way, he felt like a winner, like the champion he had strived so diligently to become someday. An arm locked around his wrist, then another arm on the opposite side, and he allowed himself to be guided by his pals, as Dean and Seth led him through the stuffy, crowded halls and into the comfort of their shared locker room.

Roman dropped onto the couch, slapping his hand against the cushion several times in a row, in a show of elation, as Dean and Seth hooted and hollered for his win. His rise to the top ranks of the company was bittersweet, as the current plans called for him to reach the mountain's peak on his own, but his hope was that the higher-ups would soon realize the potential in Seth and Dean so they could make the trek alongside him. "Yeah, man!" Roman shouted. "That's what I'm talking about. That match was the shit!"

"You're tellin' me," Seth said. "I was damn near as excited for you to win the entire thing as I would have been for myself."

"It was an awesome match for the entire seven seconds I was a part of it," Dean joked, dropping onto the couch beside Roman. "I damn near may as well have stayed back here to watch the whole thing."

"Nah, it was cool having you out there," Roman said. When he dipped his head, his raven locks fell into his face like a curtain, and he swiped a hand over his forehead, tossing the offending hair back over his broad shoulders. Seth went to the mini-refrigerator and pulled out a cold bottle of water, holding it in the air, as if to ask whether or not Roman wanted it. He gave a nod and Seth tossed it over, grabbing one for himself and shutting the door.

"What the hell?" Dean outstretched his arms, rearing for a fight, even if it _was_ only a playful battle. "Am I chopped liver or something? Roman can get some water, but just because I was first out of the match, I can't get a damn thing? I see how it is."

"Oh, shut up, you crybaby," Seth rolled his eyes, venturing into their refrigerator a second time and tossing a water bottle to Dean, who immediately popped the top and gulped it down like it was the first bit of hydration he had gotten all week. Seth leaned back against the wall, bending his left leg at the knee and pressing the sole of his foot into the stucco, while balancing his other foot on the floor. "I'm proud of you, Roman, seriously. We've come a long way from where we were a year ago, when nobody really knew or cared who we were. Now, every night when we get ready for our entrance, all the fans at the concession stands stare and call out to us. It's like we became overnight celebrities in the wrestling world."

"That we did," Dean winked, executing a firing gun motion with his right hand and directing it across the room at a highly amused Seth. "And you know what our newfound celebrity status gets us? Girls."

"If by girls you actually mean STD-ridden tramps, then I'll agree with that," Seth said. "But if by girls you mean actual, quality girls, then...no. Just...no."

"Fuck off, dude. I haven't gotten any damn diseases from a girl yet, and I've been with a whole lot of 'em. I protect myself in the bedroom," Dean puffed his chest out defensively, scooting forward on the couch. "You're just jealous that you don't have women practically ripping your shirt off and clawing at your back every time you arrive at the hotel after a show. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful. Just don't do it, bro."

"Sure, whatever," Seth cracked a smile, egged on by Roman, who gave him the nod to dig the knife in a little deeper with Dean. "So, how's Hellena Heavenly these days? You guys still got something going on, or have you moved onto bigger, better girls? Although, it doesn't get much bigger than that broad."

"Screw you," Dean crossed his arms, and Roman hunched over, slapping his knee as he cackled at the huffy indignity that had taken over Dean's entire demeanor. They always knew how to get to him in the worst ways possible, but that's what fed into their brotherhood's undying strength. They wouldn't have been true friends if they couldn't poke fun at one another every once in a while. Seth stood by, snickering as he played off of Roman's reaction, and they let their nonchalant prodding continue on in silence, until Dean finally grew tired of it. "Are you two done yet?"

"We are, if you are," Seth shrugged, whipping a clean towel off the back of a lone steel chair and tossing it over his shoulder. "And on that note, I'm gonna go grab a shower," he said, gesturing to Dean with his thumb, as he regarded Roman. "Good luck with this guy."

"Yeah, thanks, I'm gonna need it," he laughed, wiping the smirk off his face when Dean glared at him. Seth disappeared behind the bathroom door, and Roman grabbed the remote control for their personal monitor, turning up the volume so he could focus on the current match, a vicious bout between Big E Langston and Curtis Axel. Even before he glanced over, he felt Dean's controlled gaze, shooting through him like a laser beam, and he tossed the remote aside to take care of business. "I can't watch this one match in peace, Dean?"

"You can worry about peace while you're baking cookies at your grandma's house. Now's the time for something way better than peace," Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows in that familiar way that alerted Roman he was entertaining a new, terrible idea of some sort. It was like watching the makings of a tornado and being powerless to move out of its path. "I think it's time we get some of the girls in here to celebrate our team's win tonight. You know how flighty the Divas are. They'll start wanting to hang out with you just because you're getting a push, and Seth and I can reap the benefits of that if you bring them in here."

"Are you sure Seth even wants in on this? From where I'm sitting, it seems like you're the only one thinking about women at a time like this," Roman said.

It would have been a lie to pretend as if none of the Divas had caught Roman's eye over the course of the year, but most of them were taken by their fellow coworkers, and the ones who weren't hadn't made their intentions clear one way or the other, so the chances of a solid relationship forming were slim to none. Still, as much as Roman would have preferred to find a woman outside of the business, it was difficult to meet someone willing to wait at home each and every week while he was off traveling from one city to the next, all in the name of bringing his dreams to fruition. Few women were dedicated or loyal enough to remain faithful in his absence, which he found somewhat understandable. His assumptions had always led him to believe he would one day have a family of his own, but getting there was going to be a workload all its own.

"A little birdie told me you've had your eye on that sexy, red-headed number they just brought in," Dean said, staring down at his nails as he tried to slip his words in casually. His poor attempt at indifference to the subject wasn't going to fool Roman a single bit.

"If you're talking about Eva Marie, you are _so_ barking up the wrong tree. That chick isn't my type for multiple reasons, and you know it."

"I'm just sayin'," Dean shrugged. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, despite the fact that they were the only two people in the immediate area and there was no way Seth could make out their conversation over the running shower water. It was just like Dean to go for dramatic effect. If his in-ring career didn't work out, he could always make it as an actor in Hollywood, since unnecessary drama seemed to be his specialty. "I heard from Seth that you were checking her out in catering today, and if you like her, I could put in a good word for you, especially now that you're getting so much attention."

"Didn't you just hear me? I don'tlike her," Roman said, dragging the statement out comically slow and taking a page from Dr. Seuss's playbook next, all in the name of fun. "I would not like her in a boat, I would not like her on a goat, I would not like her here or there, I would not like her _anywhere_."

He caught Dean's eye and they settled into an awkward stare-off, neither man blinking, or even bothering to breathe. Roman struggled against his natural impulse to roll his eyes at Dean's antics, although he was enjoying the distraction from the mounting pressures of what it could mean to move up the ranks as a true contender in such a short amount of time. The makings of a laugh settled in his chest and threatened to flow out freely, but he bit it down, willing himself not to lose the infantile war they had waged upon one another. Roman prayed nobody would pick that moment to walk in the door, catching his gazing into his friend's eyes like a dope. He couldn't imagine the conversation that might develop as a result.

In order to save face without submitting to defeat, Roman slugged Dean in the arm without warning, a little harder than he meant to, and Dean crumpled against the couch cushions, groaning as he held his bicep. "What the hell? That's cheating!"

"Yeah, well I didn't want to play anymore."

"You're just..." he paused, letting out another whiny moan, "you're only mad because I told the truth, and you can't handle it. You like Eva Marie!"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Grow up," Roman said, trying in vain to focus on the match playing across the television screen, but Dean saw fit to egg him on, whispering under his breath about the appeal of Eva's flashy red hair and what beautiful babies Roman could have with her someday. "Would you shut the hell up already? I'm trying to watch the match...damn it," he hissed. "See? It's over now. Thanks for making it impossible for me to watch, asshat."

"Asshat?" Dean smirked. "I don't get why people even use that word. If you really think about it, it doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Seth asked, exiting the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Over the course of Dean's antics, neither man had heard the shower turn off. Seth stood over his work bag, sorting through its contents for the clean set of street clothes he had brought to change into after his match, his soaking hair dripping onto the carpet below, leaving a trail of small circles in its wake.

"Dean doesn't understand the term asshat," Roman explained. "I called him one just now, but he claims it doesn't make sense."

Dean added, "Because it doesn't."

"It's pretty obvious what it means, man," Seth said, keeping his back turned to them as he searched for his clothing. "I've always understood it to be when you have your head stuck so far up your ass, you're wearing it like a hat; hence the term, 'asshat'. Get it?"

"Hey, don't be so condescending," Dean shot back, expressing mock anger.

"Then don't be an asshat," Seth said, Roman joining him in laughter. Dean rose from the couch, and they both turned to see where he was going.

"I'm out of here. I'm sick of being the butt of your jokes. When you two are ready to apologize, come and find me," he joked, walking over to the door and tugging on the handle. "I'll be the one swimming in hot chicks, so if you see a crowd of 'em, check for me in the center."

"Sure, we'll do that," Seth said, humoring him. With Dean out of the room, Roman saw an open opportunity for setting the record straight.

He asked, "Did you tell Dean I'm into Eva Marie?"

"Well, aren't you?" Seth asked, twisting his body around to meet his gaze. "Seems pretty obvious to me."

"Whatever," Roman bit back a growl and stood. "If you're done in the bathroom, I'm gonna get showered. I can't stand sitting around in my own sweat and grime."

"Yeah, go for it," Seth answered.

Roman clamped his eyes shut when the jet stream of hot water finally hit his skin, and he struggled not to sigh in relief, lest he be mocked by Seth when he left the bathroom. In light of management taking special notice of Roman, placing him on a pedestal he had long aspired to reach, he couldn't think of a better time to release his inhibitions. He imagined lying in his hotel room later that evening, cell phone ringing off the hook as family and friends alike called to offer their words of congratulations, and the thought made him smile. For the first time, he felt like a true champion, without yet being in possession of a championship, and even the slightest taste of topping the wrestling food chain made him crave more.

Seth and Dean were essentially his brothers, having entered the company by his side and learned the ropes along with him, experiencing the ins and outs of a business they had dreamed of finding success in since childhood. Yet, Roman had been plucked from the group, the sole talent that all of the bosses saw potential in, and he couldn't help but wonder what he had done that Seth and Dean hadn't. Perhaps he possessed a certain onscreen charisma they didn't display, or maybe he had wowed them with his in-ring athleticism. There was also the acute possibility that Vince's bias toward a hulking frame, one which Roman just so happened to naturally exude, played a big role in his push, but, regardless of their reasoning, he had left the others in the dust.

His heart grew hazy with conflict as he redressed and tugged his hair into a low ponytail, noticing his chest was puffed out a little more arrogantly than he would have liked. He passed Seth on the way to his duffel bag, conflicted as he fought against the urge not to glance right over the other man's head so he wouldn't have to force conversation about all the new opportunities opening up to him that Seth and Dean weren't getting. The climb to the top didn't come without its negative points, and Roman was already suffering the side effects, trapped in a suddenly haughty disposition that he couldn't shake. He felt himself falling into a trapdoor of sinful pride that he didn't have the leverage to pull himself out of, but he would always remain who he was at his core.

When John Cena and Randy Orton stopped by the Shield locker room, wanting to hang out with Roman after-hours and for the first time since the rookie's arrival into the company, it was an opportunity too good to turn away. Roman blew off the safe bet, his set plans with Dean and Seth, under the hope that they would understand his desire to spend time with the big players in the company. Had he been aware enough to realize what a pivotal turning point his decision had set in motion, he might not have shunned his friends for a night of cheap thrills, but he went on his way, thinking he could simply make it up to them the next day. Such was the major issue in finding success so hurriedly; it tended to make those who gained it forget where they had come from, tugging them away from their roots of origin.

At the show's end, Seth ventured straight out to the rental car, figuring Dean knew to meet him there, which he did, only a matter of minutes after Seth's initial arrival. Dean glanced around, chomping noisily on his chewing gum, and Seth answered his question before he could vocalize it. "He's gone. Went to hang with Cena and Orton for the night."

"Damn, that sucks. I thought we had plans," Dean said, tossing his bag into the backseat. Seth threw him the car keys so he could make the drive back to the hotel, and they climbed into the vehicle, ready for the drive back.

"We did. I'm glad he's a success and is getting the attention he wanted, but I wish we were getting it with him," Seth admitted. Dean pulled out of their parking space, ignoring the screaming fans behind the barricade, simply because he could. Seth chuckled, peering out of his window at the rabid voyeurs who were capturing their grand exit on videotape. "Why don't you just wave to them? You know you want to. You love the attention."

"Nah, I like to make 'em want me, then leave 'em hangin'. It's fun."

Seth laughed. "Sure it is."

"What were you saying, though?"

"Nothing," Seth shrugged, scratching absently at his arm. Somehow, their car ride just didn't seem the same without Roman in the back, interjecting in their conversations and taking verbal jabs at Dean, as had been their typical traveling dynamic for their past year on the road. They were a solid group, now missing a significant member, and Seth wasn't sure how to deal, but Dean wasn't too terribly concerned, so Seth tried to let his reservations go. "I just wish we were going to the top with him. Not for selfish reasons, but I can't help but feel like he's going to forget all about us when he gets the first taste of a championship win. He's already left us behind tonight, and all he did was win a match."

"Not just any match, but a match that was a _team_ effort."

"Exactly. That's my main point."

"I don't think it's anything to worry about, though," Dean said, applying pressure to the brake pedal as he slowed behind a lengthy stream of cars, all in the process of exiting the parking lot. They were in for quite a wait. "He just wants to have some fun with guys he never gets to hang out with. I'm sure this will all blow over by the time we get to Raw tomorrow night."

"I hope so," Seth said, still unable to shake the slight twinge of uncertainty that had found its home in his gut. "This is why I hate being a part of a group effort, though. You can only hold the foundation together for so long before someone starts to pull away."

Dean glanced over. "And then what happens?"

"The foundation cracks," Seth replied, "and then it all falls down."


	2. Where Three Points Meet

A/N: I am so thrilled you all enjoyed this story, and I appreciate each and every one of you. A big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. Your encouragement keeps me writing.

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The gang bumped fists in the center of the ring and, for that split second in time, they morphed back into the group of wide-eyed rookies who had first entered the company during their November 2012 debut. With Cody Rhodes, Goldust, and Rey Mysterio left in three separate, crumpled messes on the mats — like balled up and forgotten sheets of paper — The Shield celebrated their Raw victory, winning their designated match for the second evening in a row. They were on fire, being touted by the company as the next big thing, but for all the group attention they received, Roman remained the focal point. The night was still young, however, and there were more exciting plans in the works later in the broadcast for all three of them to partake in.

After a series of brief handshakes with their opponents in the back, the renowned men of The Shield formed a line, all matching each other's pace as they headed to their locker room. Their striking presentation garnered looks and head turns that couldn't be ignored, and they shared knowing smirks amongst themselves when they weren't being watched, basking in the new, more inviting climate that greeted them each time they returned backstage. Farther ahead, John Cena turned a sharp corner, headed right their way, and Seth didn't need to exchange words with Dean to know what they had to do. Without warning, they each grasped either of Roman's arms in their clutches and dragged him around the corner, into a darkened, unpopulated hallway, much narrower than the others.

"What the hell?" Roman scowled, tugging himself free of their clawing hands. "Isn't this kidnapping or some shit?"

"That's such a dumb comment it sounds like something Dean would say," Seth laughed, slapping his thigh at his own joke. "Just kidding, man." He patted Dean on the back, and Dean's face scrunched in a grand show of sarcasm, his soaring ego momentarily bruised. "Anyways, you're not a kid, and we're not 'napping you, so to speak. This is just an act we're partaking in for your own good. You'll thank us later."

An assortment of voices drew nearer, and they set their conversation on pause, waiting until the approaching parties passed so that their hidden location wouldn't be discovered. If there was one thing a WWE superstar prided themselves on, it was maintaining their privacy in a bustling backstage area that made it nearly impossible to do just that. When the immediate threat of being found out was squashed, Dean dove at his opportunity to explain their actions. "Think of it this way, Roman. If you had a brother who was hanging with the wrong crowd, doing drugs and drinking, wouldn't you do everything you could to get him away from the people making him go down that road?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess so, but what does this have to do with me?" he asked. Dean scratched his chin and looked over at Seth.

"Where was I goin' with this? I forgot."

"Seriously, Dean?" Seth rolled his eyes and pushed him out of the way, facing Roman head-on. "The point we're trying to make, or _I'm_ trying to make," he cut his eyes at Dean, "is that in the previous scenario, you're like the kid being led astray, and Cena and Orton are like the troubled kids making you that way."

"Since when are Cena and Orton leading me into drugs and drinking?" Roman's eyes narrowed, and his pupils played a joint game of tennis, darting between the two of them like the little green ball being swatted from one opponent to the other. "Are you guys feeling all right?"

"We feel fine," Seth said. "This whole thing is a metaphor. We don't mean that you're being led into drugs in the literal sense. In this case, the drugs represent, like, arrogance and separation."

"So now I'm arrogant?" Roman folded his arms across his hulking chest, gulping in heaving breaths and pushing them out with enough force to make several strands of Seth's wild hair blow across the bridge of his nose. Their pep talk was losing a bit of its pep, and he wanted to steer it back on track, but it was difficult with a man as large as Roman glaring at him. Maybe they should have waited until they were on more neutral grounds to have their discussion, in a place where Roman couldn't possibly be angry with them, like a restaurant. The guy loved his food and would never be able to exude such ire over a steaming rack of barbecued ribs and french fries.

"No, you're not, but you're getting there," Dean said. If ever there were a horrible time for him to find his voice, it would have been right then. Dean's timing was atrocious, and that was where Seth's calming efforts came in, as he was typically the voice of reason for the group when things began spiraling out of control, such a they were at that very moment.

"Oh, I'm getting there?" Roman asked, slinging his hair away from his face with excessive force and sending his darkened waves smacking into the wall behind him before they finally settled against his back. "So just because I win at our second Survivor Series and want to hang out with two of the top guys, I'm arrogant all of the sudden? If Cena and Orton had asked you guys to hang out with them, you wouldn't have turned them down, so why are you coming down hard on me for taking full advantage of an opportunity you would have jumped at, if given the chance? Sounds to me like you're both just jealous."

"Hold on, both of you, let's all calm down," Seth placed a light hand on Roman's chest, but he swatted it away, the same way a horse would use its tail to chase off an annoying fly.

"You guys want to talk? Talk to yourselves," he spat out, like a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm out of here."

Seth sighed, pressing his body against the wall as he watched Roman's back, until he finally turned the corner and slipped out of sight completely. Dean stared after him in shock, mouth agape, and all Seth could do was shake his head. "That went well."

"Tell me about it," Dean replied.

With every minute that ticked by, Seth and Dean could only hope the passage of time would work as a healing balm, meant to mollify the emotional wounds they had inflicted upon Roman. Seth had made an effort to go after him, but Roman hadn't been in the mood and had basically forced him to back off. He even went so far as to jog around corners and duck into random locker rooms while Seth was in pursuit of him, repeating the process down at least two hallways that Seth had counted, before he finally threw in the towel. He would have to let Roman come to him on his own time and, luckily for The Shield, they were expected to interrupt a top match on the card later in the evening.

As with all attacks, they were merging together as a pack, ready to sink their teeth into CM Punk like a group of rabid dogs, and with the helpful direction of a production assistant, Seth and Dean were led through the arena to the precise location where they would cut through the crowd, a different spot than they used when they made their regular entrance. When the two men arrived, a single road agent was already waiting with Roman, leaning in toward him to offer some last-minute instructions while Roman dumped a bottle of water over his head, shaking his hair out as if he were a dog and it was his drenched fur, just like the aforementioned canine that he was: a true hound of justice. Seth detected the exact point when Roman noticed them coming up on his side, his eyes nearly rolling right out of his head as he turned away. Seth stopped in his tracks, the deafening roar of the crowd ringing in his ears while they waited for their big spot.

Leave it to Roman to stop a man of Seth's bravery in his tracks with only a withering roll of the eyes. However, Seth's pain ran deeper than a simple gesture. Roman was his brother at heart, just like Dean had become, and with a single unhappy person in their group, they were _all_ certain to be doomed. Seth stumbled back a few steps as his vision grew hazy, and it wasn't until Dean's hand came down on his back that he realized he had begun to lose his balance. Concern circulated through Dean's irises, infiltrating every inch of ocean blue, and making for one of the few times Seth had ever seen him in such a solemn state.

"You okay, bro?" Dean asked. "You don't look so good. Sort of pale and...weird."

"I'll be okay. Let's just do this," Seth trudged forward, with Dean placing a tentative hand on his arm.

They walked as a pair, strolling up behind Roman, who was jumping in place to heat his previously cooled down muscles. Seth turned away from Dean's red-hot gaze, which has glued itself to the side of his face. While thankful he had a friend who cared so much, Seth didn't want or need to be pitied. Being lightheaded for a few seconds was no cause for true concern. Roman and Dean jumped in place in tandem and, off to the side of them both, Seth stretched his arms across his chest, smiling weakly when Dean glanced over to check on him again. As he ran his left hand over his face, fingertips lingering near his chin, they were given the signal to go on.

The men formed a single file line, Roman taking the lead and Seth falling in the back, as they cut through the roaring crowd. Seth barely tolerated the flood of unfamiliar hands patting his back as he passed the seats of fans, groaning when they reached the barricade and he had to find the strength to hop over it. Dean waited on the other side of the barrier, reaching out a helping hand, which Seth used to give himself a boost, planting his feet safely on the other side. By the time he rounded the far corner of the ring, Roman had already taken matters into his own hands, delivering a monstrous spear to CM Punk, which left him in a broken heap on the ringside mat.

Some unknown force filled the stale air and wrapped its arms around them like wild vines, joining the three men in a bond that could only be described as pure unity. Roman ate up the gasps from the crowd, smiling and scanning the audience as they let his sudden attack sink in and, just that quickly, all backstage conflict between the three of them slipped away, like a helium balloon released outdoors and left to explore the universe in parts unseen to those on the ground below. Seth's eyes met Roman's and he smirked, an expression Roman matched with ease, as Seth held his hands out toward Punk's limp body, as if to ask what should come next. Without the need for words, their eyes clicked and the decision was made; they would finish the job they had set out to do, and they would complete it as a team.

They lifted a nearly unconscious Punk by his scraggly arms, Seth and Dean teaming up to slide him into the ring where Roman, intent on inflicting a surplus of pain, awaited Punk's arrival. Seth snaked his hand around Punk's midsection while Dean held his arm, holding him up like a steak meant to be devoured by a bear. Roman was, in every sense, as unmercifully vicious as any bear would have been with his meal dancing around on the end of a string, right before his very eyes. Punk was an unlucky victim, having committed the accidental crime of showing up in the wrong place at the wrong time and, now, he was going to have an example made out of him for all the world to behold.

Punk went for a ride, receiving a boost in preparation for a triple power bomb, the Shield members smiling with glee, like a child would upon their arrival at a jam-packed toy store. The attack was nothing personal and was only another in a long line of examples as to why The Shield was not to be toyed with. They would bulldoze through anyone, if it meant proving their abilities, and as they put in triple the effort to slam an already dazed Punk onto the awaiting mat, Seth felt it again. His mouth dropped open slightly as he played to the crowd, putting overwhelming pride for his team on full display, but the vague sense of disorientation had returned, only this time, it was worse.

As they extended their arms over Punk, fists uniting in celebration of a job well done, Seth wondered if the same solid brotherhood would hold up when they returned backstage. Had Roman forgiven them, or was he playing along for the cameras, only doing what was required of him to make a paycheck? Plenty of questions hung in the air, and Seth waited for the answers to come rushing in, but, first, he had to make it out of the ring. He climbed down and jumped from the apron to the mat below, following Dean up the ramp and coming up on Roman's side. When they slipped behind the curtains and back into the backstage area, Seth made a beeline for the water cooler.

Using both hands, he pulled two cold bottles out, unscrewing the top from the first one and dumping the contents over his head, where they landed in an unceremonious puddle at his feet. One of the stagehands tossed a clean towel down to sop up the mess, and Seth's eyes spoke an apology his lips were unable to get out. The assistant nodded politely and went about his business, and Seth tossed the empty bottle aside and opened the other one, chugging the liquid down and cringing when his temples began throbbing in protest of too many cold fluids at once. The pain traveled from the center of his forehead to straight down the bridge of his nose, and he groaned, frustrated and unwell.

"You all right?" Roman slapped his back, and Seth gave a feeble nod, crossing the hallway to a chair positioned against the wall. He took a seat and continued downing slow sips of water, hoping that once his body cooled down he would return to normal. The last thing he needed was to be coming down with some sort of illness. There was too much left to fix, and he had made it his personal mission to mend all that was broken, with or without Dean's help.

"I feel a little off, but I probably just need to eat something," Seth guessed. Dean and Roman knelt on either side of his chair, and Seth brought his unfinished water bottle up to his face, pressing it into his forehead in the hopes that it would cool him down more quickly. He mumbled against the bottle, as dew drops trickled onto his nose, "You were good out there, Roman. You too, Dean. I really think we outdid ourselves this time."

"That's pretty much what we always do," Roman acknowledged. "We get better every week."

Dean scratched the back of his neck and bit his lower lip, setting it free before long. "So do you want me to grab you a plate from catering, Seth? Everyone already ate, but I can see if there's anything good left. Or we can all shower and cut out of here early, maybe find a restaurant," he said, gaze lowering bashfully when he realized his slip-up. "Not sure if you're up for hangin' with us, Roman, but you're welcome to, if you're not too pissed about earlier."

Roman sighed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "Look, I had some time to think while I was away from you guys, and I was being dramatic earlier."

"Like a girl," Dean nodded. Roman slugged him in the shoulder and he cringed, grabbing the sore spot and grumbling to himself.

"Don't push it, pal," Roman laughed. "I'll admit I overreacted, but it was a little weird for you guys to just come at me like that out of nowhere. I'm always supportive of you, and you're normally that way with me too, but I felt a little attacked when you called me arrogant. I still don't even get why you both feel that way. Literally, all I did was hang out with Cena and Orton for one night, and you're both groaning about what an asshole I am. Maybe I'm not seeing the situation clearly, but I really don't think I did anything wrong."

"I never thought you did anything wrong either, per se," Seth replied. He brought the rim of his water bottle to his lips and downed another large gulp, taking his time in swallowing it. "I can't speak for Dean, but I was coming from a good place. I thought spending time with those guys might make you lose who you are, and I was trying to stop that from happening. I just didn't want you to forget where you came from and all the blood, sweat, and tears we've given to get where we are. We may not have had the same journey here, but we banded together somewhere along the way, and this friendship between the three of us is one that should stick. There's no reason we need to be pulling away from it, or am I wrong?" Seth asked, raising his eyebrow.

"No, you're not wrong, but I'm not pulling away from anything. We'll still always hang out, and I never said we wouldn't. You guys assumed I was doing something I wasn't," Roman said. "It was a simple night out with the guys. We had a few drinks and danced with some girls. Scratch that; Randy and I danced with girls, and John brought Nikki along and made out with her in the corner for a while. It was cool overall, though, I guess. I still don't see what the big deal is."

"Maybe we were in the wrong," Dean said. He cleared his throat loudly and looked at Roman. Up until then, he hadn't been brave enough to do so. "I guess we thought you were pulling away when you really weren't. There might even have been a little bit of jealousy on our parts, but we didn't mean it. We just want to see our group stick together."

"And we will," Roman promised. He extended his arm, just as they had in the ring a few minutes earlier, and curled his hand into a fist. "The mighty will rise," he smiled, waiting for Dean and Seth to join in.

They bumped fists, and Seth took Dean up on his offer to help him out of the chair. The sooner they made it back to their locker room, the sooner they could shower and get back on the road. They hadn't been able to secure a hotel room for the night, because they had been running late on the drive into town, so before they could eat dinner or go out to party, they had to find a room for the night, lest they find themselves sleeping in their rental car, which they had all been subjected to doing at previous points in the past. Such were the rigors of chasing a dream akin to the oft-unforgiving world of professional wrestling.

Dean loosened his grip on Seth when he was confident he could walk without falling, and they navigated the hallways expertly, returning to their locker room and cleaning themselves up one by one. When a knock came at their door, Seth was in the middle of repacking his duffel bag, Dean was still dressing after his shower, and Roman was in the midst of taking his own shower. Seth's right eyebrow arched. "Were you expecting someone?"

"Nope." Dean shook his head, returning to his previous task and Seth sighed, rubbing his throbbing temples as he headed to the door and pulled it open, greeting John Cena with a startled set of eyes. He was in awe, absolutely, but not for the reason most might have assumed.

"Oh, it's you," Seth said, struggling not to sneer. Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew his behavior was childish. Roman was one of the best friends he had ever made in life, and anyone who was a friend of Roman's had true potential to become a friend of his. He could at least put in a genuine effort to be cordial, whether he liked John or not. "Sorry. I just meant that I wasn't exactly expecting you. What's up?"

"Roman around?" John asked, looking past him and squinting into the room.

It was just like Cena to find himself so superior that he rejected putting in the effort for the simple act of speaking in complete sentences. Seth edged the door forward with his foot, closing the gap on John's view. He could be nice and all, but he wasn't just going to let the guy come up and stare into their locker room as if he owned the place. He may have been the face of the WWE, but he hadn't proven himself to be anyone of substance where it concerned The Shield's personal locker room, and he was beginning to infringe on their domain. Perhaps some of Seth's onscreen character was spilling into his real life persona; he was becoming both callous and cold.

"Well, this _is_ his locker room so, yeah, he's around," Seth answered smartly. His eyes darted rapidly from left to right, but he managed not to roll them at John's arrant nerve. He wasn't getting past Seth without a fight. Tossing his power around backstage was all well and good, until it affected Seth or his friends. "What do you need?"

"I was hoping to tell _him_ that," John said, a sharp edge to his tone that hadn't initially been there. Seth was making him defensive.

"It'll have to wait. He's in the shower."

"Tell him I came by," John tossed over his shoulder, already in the process of walking away before even completing the sentence.

"Yeah, I sure will," Seth said, pushing the door shut and hunching over with laughter. "Not!"

"Come on, we can't keep messages from him," Dean cut in. He had gotten fully dressed in the time since Seth turned his back and was rummaging through his work bag for some unknown object. "He has a right to know who leaves a message for him. I don't want him hanging out with those guys any more than you do, but we can't really stop it. It's just not our right, and you shouldn't be so territorial anyway. We're starting to act like possessive girlfriends or something, and that's just not cool. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were more worried about the effect losing Roman could have on your career than you are about what it might do to our friendship."

Seth struggled to answer but was frozen in place, drowning in a new, sudden sea of nausea and vertigo. He tried to face Dean, to deliver the message that something was seriously wrong and to scoff at the suggestion that he cared more about the progression of his career than about his friends, but the words were caught in his throat, his vocal chords not strong enough to form the message he so desperately needed to get out. Since he was still near the door, Seth placed a hand on the wall for balance, folding at his hips and staring down at the cold, hard floor. He wasn't well, and all he could do was keep his composure and hope Dean would look over and see for himself that something was amiss.

"Was someone just here?" Roman asked, slipping out of the bathroom. "I thought I heard a knock, over the sound of the shower," he said. Roman was halted in his tracks, spying Seth near the far side of the room and exchanging a look with Dean, who was still distracted by whatever item lurked in his bag. "What's with him?"

"Who?" Dean asked. When he glanced up, Roman was pointing, and his eyes followed Roman's index finger until they landed on Seth, woozy and distressed, as he clung to the wall. "What the...Seth, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you joking?"

"Stop playing around, man. We have to get ready to go," Roman said, shaking his head.

He turned his back, pulling out a clean set of clothing and preparing to get dressed. Dean abandoned the desperate search for his MP3 player and strolled tentatively across the room, bending over near Seth, who had one hand pressed against the wall and the other one resting on his forehead. As it turned out, he arrived just in time to make the save. Seth's legs chose that very moment to buckle underneath his weight, and Dean caught him in the midst of his spiraling crash to the floor. Dean gasped and slowly lowered Seth's motionless body to the ground, beside himself with fear as he yelled for Roman to summon help.

All Dean could do was sit. Sit and wait.


	3. Biting & Clawing: A Recipe for Disaster

A/N: You guys are the greatest! Thanks for reading, reviewing, and just generally making this story what it is. I'm going to try to have the next chapter up later this week, and that one will take place at last night's Raw in Seattle, so keep an eye out for that!

* * *

"_You gotta pull on his beard!"_

Such was the scope of Seth's brilliant advice during The Shield's match against the team of the Rhodes brothers and Big Show, only a week after his sudden blackout. With the assistance of the standard medical personnel provided backstage at every WWE event, Seth was loaded onto a stretcher and brought by ambulance to the nearest hospital, where he received intravenous fluids for a severe case of dehydration and was released early the next morning. Roman smirked, trying to hide his smile from the ringside fans, lest he fall out of character, but he couldn't contain his satisfaction that the dismal, sickly Seth of the week before was a thing of the past, replaced by the more outgoing and witty version of Seth that he had come to know and love. He was back to cracking corny jokes and offering horrible in-ring advice as to how they could possibly defeat the Big Show.

Being a member of one of the most aggressive stables in WWE history didn't mean Seth couldn't still carry a sense of humor about himself, and he dished it out often and in the most hilarious of ways. His bosses had let him off easy for the remainder of the prior week, requesting that he show up at Smackdown but promising he wouldn't be required to compete in a match. Dean was the chosen individual to take one for the team, engaging in a hard-fought battle against CM Punk that, unfortunately, didn't end in The Shield's favor, but there was always tomorrow. In fact, there was always Monday night, which was exactly where Seth found himself standing on the apron, waiting to be tagged into the ring by Dean.

Big Show had been taking turns dominating the three of them in the most brutal of ways, but they were tapped to come out on top by the bout's end. At the match's conclusion, Dean lost his control and Seth, the legal man, jumped in and took advantage of Goldust's distracted state, rolling him up for the win. At top speed, Seth rushed out of the ring and flung himself over the barricade, nursing his wounds as best he could while waiting for his teammates to catch up with him. In going to such extremes as passing out backstage one week and winning it all for his team the next, Seth could feel a shift of the tide, and it was turning in their favor. Maybe they would reach the summit of professional wrestling as a group after all.

Roman latched onto the front of Seth's ring gear, giving the material a shake to congratulate him on a job well done. Dean joined them soon after, surrounding by onlooking fans, and Roman talked him up, praising him for stepping forward and taking a huge hit for the team. For that brief moment, the boys were suspended in time, and Seth wanted to hold onto it for all it was worth, but that wasn't to be. They returned backstage to the usual amount of praise and reassurance from their peers, only to find Eva Marie leaning against the adjacent wall — a close-fitting, lime green dress adhering to her tanned skin and leaving little to the imagination by way of her natural curves. She was impossible to ignore, or maybe it was her flaming red hair and siren red lipstick that was the real attracting point, but Roman stopped in his tracks, toweling the sweat off of his face in the process.

Seth and Dean had already passed Eva Marie, checking their peripheries and realizing Roman had fallen behind. They found him in a raging battle with self, eyes locked on Eva Marie's as he returned the sly smile spreading across her face, prompting Seth to call out. "Come on, Roman, let's go!"

"You guys go ahead." He waved them on, not even bothering to glance in their direction. Seth and Dean eyed each other, playing around with the idea of pulling Roman away themselves, but a prospective romance wasn't exactly a bad thing, and they had both hoped for meeting 'the one' themselves, on occasion. Having a woman to keep them company on the road wouldn't be so bad, and if Roman could discover that sort of happiness, it was their job as friends to be supportive. It was simply too bad it had to be Eva, out of all the women on the roster.

Seth patted Dean's shoulder and nodded toward the hallway. "Let's just allow him to have his fun. We'll catch up with him later."

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean said. His eyes clouded in uncertainty, and he lingered a few seconds longer than he probably should have, watching Roman's stunted steps as he found his way to Eva Marie and engaged her in conversation. It wasn't until Seth actually went so far as to tug Dean's arm that he left the two of them alone to get better acquainted. Just before they turned the corner, Dean cast a final glance back and saw Roman's right arm extended, his wide palm lying flat against the wall, right near Eva Marie's head as he leaned in toward her.

Sparks were flying and romance was brewing, whether they approved or not.

Dean and Seth sat across the table from Roman and Eva Marie, exchanging silent gags and hurls and struggling to keep their roaring appetites going as they watched their best friend fall for a girl who was likely only after one thing. Eva Marie didn't strike them as the serious relationship type, nor did they expect her to be faithful for any length of time. She had only recently broken her engagement off and left her poor fiancé — whoever he was, since she had hardly spoken of him — in the dust, which left no reason to believe she would treat Roman any better. It was oft said that the best determinant of future behavior was a person's past actions, and judging by Eva Marie's general choices, she was looking for a man to use up and toss away like yesterday's trash the second she got what she wanted.

A gaggle of cheers rang out from across the restaurant as a halo of waiters formed a curved line around a table and sang 'Happy Birthday' to a young woman who was out for the night with her friends. Seth used the ruckus as a cover-up for his words, leaning over to Dean and voicing the concerns he had held at bay all night. "I don't think I like this chick."

"I know," Dean whispered back, raising his head to look at them and ducking down again. "Let's get her the hell away from Roman before she ruins him. She'll make him all whipped, and stuff."

"I know. Do something."

"Me?" Dean asked, eyes widening as he placed his hands on his chest, hissing, "What do you want _me_ to do?"

"Think of something, stupid."

The waiters concluded their singing to a reception of loud cheers and dispersed at once, leaving Dean and Seth in silence, glancing awkwardly across the table to find Roman with his arm around Eva Marie's shoulders, whispering in her ear as if they had known each other for much longer than the hour they actually had. There were some things friends had to do for each other, and if it meant keeping one member of their group away from a toxic leech, it was a chance they would take. Dean winced when Seth kicked him lightly underneath the table, signaling now was the time to make a move, but he crossed his arms and ignored him — that was, until his shin exploded in a blinding flash of pain when Seth kicked him harder, in a particularly more sensitive spot. Dean jumped a foot in the air, screaming, "Shit!"

He received glares from the adults at the two tables nearest to them and ducked his head in embarrassment. Seth smirked, chuckling to himself and pretending to wait patiently for the food they had ordered. He even went so far as to study his fingernails, blowing on them jokingly as if he had just painted them with a fresh coat of nail polish. Dean rolled his eyes, shrugging when Roman looked over with a pair of hitched brows. They were failing miserably at accomplishing anything except making _themselves _look like the real fools, while Eva Marie did nothing but reap the benefits of potentially dating a Shield member.

"Hey, Roman, we have to go somewhere after this, remember?" Seth asked, trying to nudge him in the right direction without being blunt. Aside from that, he couldn't speak freely, not with Eva Marie staring a hole straight through him. _Well, I don't like you either_, he thought.

"Where?" he asked, pulling himself away from his female companion long enough to take a sip of water from his glass.

"Uh...Dean...where is it that we have to go again? I forgot," Seth said. He couldn't think of everything by himself, and if Dean wasn't going to go out of his way to help mediate the situation, Seth would force him into it. His eyes practically bugged out of his skull as he turned to Seth in a panic.

"What?" he asked. "I never said we had to go anywhere."

"Yeah, you did," Seth shot back pointedly. "You were telling me something about how we had to go to that one place, remember? You just told me on the way over here, but I forgot where it was."

By that point, Roman had grown suspicious, eyes darting between the two of them and then searching Eva's Marie's face, where he hoped to find the answer. She flashed a winning, pearly-white smile, looking first at Seth, then Dean, and then proceeded to put the kibosh on their disorganized plan as quickly as it took her to bat her false eyelashes at Roman. Eva cut in, "They obviously don't want me here. They're just trying to get you to leave early so you'll stop talking to me. I pick up on this kind of stuff right away," she said, watching their morphed expressions in triumph, "mostly because I've been with other guys whose friends just don't know when to butt out."

"You're free to leave if you don't like it here," Seth shrugged, fiddling with the straw in his glass. "Nobody's forcing you to stay here."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that," Eva retorted.

"Good," he replied.

"Hey, guys, come on," Roman interrupted. "Take it easy. This is probably uncomfortable for everyone involved, because you don't know each other and, hell, I don't even know Eva that well yet, but I'd like to try, if you could just back off of her for a minute. Don't be so snippy."

"Sorry, but I have a real aversion to random chicks coming and telling me to butt out of a group I've been a part of since before she was even in this damn company," Seth said. Of the whole group, he was the most outspoken and wouldn't have changed a thing about his personality, not even if he could. Some people needed to be put in their places, and the sneaky vixen hanging off of Roman's arm fell directly into that category. "Show some respect, Eva."

She brushed her loud hair off of her shoulders, flipping it behind her back and looking at a spot above them, in that classic way she did to most everyone, as if they were beneath her. "I have respect."

"No, you don't. I don't think you respect us, or this business as a whole," Seth set in, Dean sighing beside him. Once he picked up traction, there was no turning back.

"Oh dear," Dean said, covering his left cheek with his hand.

"What?" Seth asked. "If she gets to talk, I get to respond, and the fact of the matter is, she has no respect for anything or anyone around her. This business is a tough one, Eva, and if you think you can sashay into our world and make a name for yourself by hanging off a top guy's arm rather than actually working to become a real in-ring performer, then you're barking up the wrong tree. That's pathetic and an insult to the women who actually work in and love this business, like Natalya, Kaitlyn, and AJ. They worked their asses off to be where they are. You should try that sometime, instead of worrying about what shade to dye your hair so you won't match the Bellas."

"Oh, you're one to talk," she said, eyes traveling up to his two-toned hair. She smiled widely, glancing at Roman as if she was the most clever person at the table and he should give her an award simply for existing. Her display was exactly why Roman couldn't stand it whenever a friend of his got a girlfriend. Usually, the girl was all wrong for said friend, and the only result that ever ensued was trouble, and he came off looking like the bad guy in trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm not the only one worried about hair dye."

"If a vague comment about hair color is all you took away from everything I just said, then no wonder you need Roman to try and make a name for yourself in the WWE," Seth said. "You sure as hell won't do it any other way."

"Enough!" Roman's hand slammed down on the tabletop, a resounding thud accompanying the recognizable jingle of drink glasses and silverware. They had, once again, attracted unwanted attention from nearby patrons, and frustration coursed through Roman's eyes, raw emotion rounding the oval of his pupils at top speed, like cars circling a racetrack. Seth wanted to feel something; he needed to feel guilty about what he had said, to be pressed by some inner guide to apologize for all he had said, but he couldn't find it within himself to want to. In fact, he felt a huge weight off his chest without having to hold onto the vitriol Eva Marie had built up inside of him, from her presence alone. "This is my guest, whether either of you like it or not. We're staying here, and we're having dinner, and if you don't want to be a part of this, you can go have dinner somewhere else. You've brought plenty of your girls around me, and I don't act like this to either of you."

"So that's it?" Seth asked.

"What?" Roman said.

"You're going to choose some chick you barely know over the guys you've worked and traveled with for the entire past year of your life?" Seth pointed out. "Because if that's the way it is, we can end this whole thing right now. Maybe I should go to our bosses and tell them we don't need to work together at all. It's looking like they're going to disband us anyway, and if you're so sure you can be on your own, go for it. Dean and I can be a tag team or compete in singles matches."

"Can't we have one night of no drama, guys?" Dean asked, placing his head down in the palm of his hand, shielding his face in the process. "It's like we're turning into bitchy little girls, and I'm over this already. Seriously, I'm hungry; I just want to eat," he moaned.

"The way you're so preoccupied with my push, you're the one who's acting different. It's not me," Roman said. "You're just jealous that they're noticing me more than you, Seth, and you can't handle it. Maybe if you spent more time working on yourself in the ring than worrying about what Eva and I are doing, you could be the one they push. Get off your high horse and realize that you're no better than me, dude."

"Of course not," Seth replied. "You've already made it clear nobody is as good as you, right? You _do _realize Vince values a guy's size more than their technical skill level, don't you? He's not pushing you because he thinks you're the next Bret Hart or Ric Flair. He's doing it because you're _big_. Good for you, Roman, you were born big!" he clapped, this time ignoring the third round of irritated looks directed their way.

"Feed me," Dean whimpered to nobody in particular, dropping his forehead onto the table. "Stop all the fighting and just feed me."

"You're so busy telling Eva to leave the table, but why don't you leave?" Roman suggested. "You're the only one who has the problem. We came here to eat, and so did Dean obviously, so why don't you get up and walk your arrogant ass out of here?"

As if she hadn't already done enough, Eva just had to give her two cents and dig her claws in a little bit deeper. "If you were a true friend and really cared about Roman, you would — "

"Eva, be quiet," Seth cut her off, scooting his chair back against the floor and storming away from the table.

He wasn't entirely sure where he was going, or why, but he hightailed it right out of the establishment, not caring that his stomach was grumbling and he would have had a hot plate of food carried to him within minutes. He was angry at Roman for letting the discussion go down such a unhealthy path, angry at Dean for not defending him more openly, but mostly, he was angry with himself. Angry because he hadn't had the guts to not allow someone like Eva Marie to come in and kick him out of his own group. Their rental car was in the parking lot, but Roman had the keys in his pocket, and Seth's willful pride wouldn't allow him to slink back in and ask for them.

The lines were drawn in the sand, and Seth had made his choice loud and clear, so he did the only thing he could think of and called for a taxi. All he needed was a short ride to their hotel suite, where he could remove his belongings and pay for his own separate room for the night. He needed the time away from Roman to cool off, and he assumed Roman needed more of the same. Their friendship wasn't truly threatened by the hostility exchanged across the table, even if Eva thought she had gotten the upper hand. They would all come together sooner or later, as they always did, and after a round of apologies, life as they knew it would return to normal. Seth wouldn't allow a random woman to come in and shred their group to meager ruins.

And certainly not Eva Marie, of all people. Definitely not her.


	4. Fool Me Once, Shame on You

A/N: Thanks so much for reading this story and leaving me reviews. I love finding out what you think of each chapter, so keep being amazing and leaving me your comments. Without further ado, here's the next installment!

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Without coming to a complete stop, Roman picked up a copy of the Raw script for the show that evening in Seattle. He had been running late, partially because he had spent too long of a time in the hotel gym, but also because a pleasant surprise had arrived during his work-out, in the form of Eva Marie. He hadn't seen Dean or Seth since their stressful encounter the week before, even going so far as to pass up on their phone calls during his weekend at home in Florida, which he rarely, if ever, did. The time alone was soothing to his soul, and sooner or later, his friends would come to understand that — if he could actually still call them his friends.

When he came upon their joint locker room, Roman paused, asking himself whether or not he really wanted to go inside. There wasn't much else of a place for him to go, except for the group locker room down the hall that the rookies all shared. He, Dean, and Seth were all rookies as well, in their own rights, but their circumstances were significantly different; management saw potential in them that they didn't detect in anyone else. Roman settled on going inside as planned, but should he be met with the slightest bit of hostility, he wouldn't hesitate to find other people who knew how to appreciate him for who he was.

He had a true ally in Eva Marie, as far as he could tell, just like he did in Randy and John. They were taking him under their wing, teaching him all the business secrets they couldn't be bothered to inform anyone else of, and that had to mean something. They wouldn't have taken notice of him like that unless they saw a real chance for him to be a star. If Dean and Seth couldn't be happy for him the way he would for them had they experienced the same success, he was going to branch out and find his own place to be, because nothing was going to hold him back from proving why his family held such an esteemed place in the wrestling world. He and his relatives were born champions.

The first thing Roman did when he entered was to drop his things on the ground and head to the full-length mirror, where he adjusted his tie and smoothed down the material of his suit. He wasn't used to dressing so fancily, but his efforts were for a worthwhile occasion, and he was ecstatic to be involved in the Slammy Awards, in at least _some_ capacity, even if it wasn't his time to actually win a trophy on the televised portion of the show. When he finished straightening himself up, he found Seth holding a magazine only by its delicate corner as he stared, open-mouthed, at him, and Dean was picking at his fingernails, trying to ignore the tension altogether. He nodded once, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels.

"Is there any special reason you're looking at me like that?" Roman asked. Seth must not have been aware his mouth was hanging open until Roman pointed it out, because he clamped it shut, his teeth clicking lightly when they met. He raised the magazine back to eye-level.

"Nope, none at all," he replied, voice muffled by the pages in front of his face. "Nice suit, by the way."

"Yeah, you guys, too," Roman acknowledged. A few minutes of complete silence passed, Roman taking a seat on a steel chair as he read over the script, and Dean and Seth occupying themselves with other things. It was probably the most quiet their locker room had been since they arrived at the WWE and joined forces, and, finally, Dean couldn't take the immense pressure anymore and exploded like a balloon being pricked with a pin.

"Enough of this bullcrap, guys!" Dean shouted. "Pull yourselves together already and forget all this junk. I'm so sick of fighting over girls and match wins and career pushes. Why can't we be the friends we're supposed to be and just support each other whenever good fortune comes, no matter who it comes to. I'm trying to get this, but I just don't understand. I don't want any part of this fighting anymore."

"Stop yelling," Seth said. He discarded his magazine in his lap and slipped his hands gingerly over his ears, pretending they had been hurt by Dean's sharp volume. "These things are sensitive, all right? Besides, nobody's fighting."

"I know you guys don't like Eva Marie, and that's cool, because you don't have to," Roman said. He ran his palms over the thighs of his pants, struggling to form a string of coherent thoughts that would somehow pull him out of the trench he had tripped into. Friendships took a lot of hard work, but he was a willing party to making things right and hoped Dean and Seth would be as well. "We're all acting like children, to some extent, but Eva seems cool, and I'm going to see her again. I'm telling you ahead of time so there will be no surprises, and if either of you don't want to be around her, don't come to dinner with us after shows."

"That's lame, dude. Since when did you go so soft?" Seth asked. He leaned forward on the couch and balanced his elbows on his knees, crinkling the pages of his magazine in the process. "Bros before hos, that's all I gotta say."

"She's not a ho," Roman defended.

Seth tipped his head, countering, "That's debatable."

"What's your real problem, Seth?" Roman asked, eyes boring into his. "I don't think this has much to do with Eva. Sure, you don't like her, but you have no reason to be so angry at her. You're obviously pissed at me, and why? Because I get matches and attention that you don't get? If you want it, earn it."

Dean sighed, grimacing as he sank farther into the couch cushions and covered his face with both hands. "Good grief, here we go again. Would you guys give it a rest?"

"Sorry, Dean," Roman apologized. "I don't mean to bring you back into this, because you've been a good friend lately."

"Actually, he agrees with me but doesn't have the guts to say it," Seth replied. "I'm the one who will tell you to your face that you're acting like a pompous asshole, and Dean thinks so too, but he's not going to say that. Of course he won't admit it. You would kick his ass."

"I'll kick _your_ ass," Roman growled. "And see how quick he was to throw you completely under the bus, Dean?" Roman pointed out, noting that Dean was avoiding everyone's gaze, picking at a loose string at the hem of his suit jacket. "He's acting like a jealous prick because he's not getting what he wants, and he'll take that aggression out on whoever's closest."

Seth rolled his eyes and shook his head, chomping down even harder on the piece of spearmint gum in his mouth. "Real nice calling someone who's supposed to be your friend a jealous prick. At least now I know how you really feel. Thanks a lot."

"I didn't say you were a jealous prick," Roman clarified, "only that you're _acting_ like one."

"Right, because that's so much better," Seth argued.

"Why don't you just come out and admit you're not taking this drastic shift in attention well and we can be done with it," Roman said. "You don't like that I get noticed more than you and Dean, which is understandable, but it's really time to build a bridge and get over it."

"What do you mean 'more attention than me'?" Dean squinted, crossing his arms and staring Roman down. "Do you have any idea how many people say I'm the breakout star? Lots of people think I show the most potential of anyone in the group, and if you don't believe me, just check the internet."

"Right, because internet wrestling fans hold such valid opinions," Roman laughed, rubbing his nose after he let out an unexpected snort. He hadn't shown up to argue, but, lately, whenever he was in a room with Seth and Dean, it was inevitable that they clashed heads. That was the problem with being in a group; there could never be a completely clean split, because at least one or two members would undoubtedly walk away bitter. "You may have been hot stuff in IPW and FCW, but that was mostly because you were a big fish in a small pond. We're in the big leagues now, and mediocrity ain't gonna fly," he said, making the cutthroat sign with his hand.

"Seth isn't the one with the problem," Dean said, beginning to fume. His cheeks flushed involuntarily, and he sputtered out, "You're the one being a prick! Seth's trying to talk some sense into you, but all you want to do is cut us down and go on about how great _you_ are. You weren't like this until Survivor Series, and now all the sudden you think you're hot shit just because Vince took a liking to you. Newsflash: Vince has always liked huge guys. Doesn't mean you're a better wrestler than Seth and I are, you arrogant ass!"

"Thank you," Seth clapped, pretending to wipe a stray tear from his eye. "That was a beautiful speech and basically what I've been saying all along," he added, patting Dean's back. "You know, Ro, maybe you need to be kicked out of this group. Since Dean and I aren't the ones with the massive ego problem, we can work together while you go off with that wannabee walking fireball, or whatever the hell she's trying to look like with that ridiculous hair."

"At least she carries herself with dignity and class," Roman huffed, rising from his seat and pacing back and forth across the room, fists clenched. After five times back one way and the other, he slammed his palm into the wall, growling in anger. "You're not any better than Eva, you know. She's a good girl."

"Weren't you the one who just claimed a week or two ago that you couldn't stand the girl?" Seth asked. "You brought her up, and I said I thought you liked her, but you were the one who was so quick to say how you could never like her, so what changed so quickly? Either you were lying then, or you're a liar now; take your pick."

"I don't need to answer to either of you. I'm an adult."

"First impressions are everything, and you obviously didn't like her for a reason, so maybe you should stay true to that. Your instincts recognized something in her that didn't fit with your values, so why challenge that?" Seth wondered. "Also, I don't think you get that we're not bitching at you because you're with Eva. We're pissed because she's changing you, just like Cena and Orton are trying to do. You're acting like a little kid who's desperate to be accepted, and it's pathetic. Why can't you just be who you are and tell everyone else to go fuck themselves?"

"Why don't you take your own advice, Seth?" Roman said, pressing the button on the remote control to turn on their monitor. By that point, he had calmed enough to return to his seat and wanted to watch the opening of the show so he could have a brief sabbatical from his life's problems, if nothing else.

Seth glanced at Dean, hoping he might have the magic words to say that would snap Roman out of his ineptitude, but he returned only a blank stare, and Seth knew it was over. Another battle lost to Roman's newfound ego, and if said ego grew any bigger, it was going to earn its own special place in the Raw script. Dean left the room briefly, an awkward silence settling around Roman and Seth, until he finally returned with a hot plate of food from catering. No one spoke a word until it came time for them to make their entrance at the top of the ramp to present the nominees for the Double-Cross of the Year award.

Dean, never one to take himself too seriously, went for the lighthearted beginning, commenting on his dapper looks and attempting to get the crowd to acknowledge his sentiments and get behind him. He was as well cleaned up as anyone would ever see him, so he was going to milk his appearance for all it was worth. As it stood, The Shield had won two Slammy awards as a group on the official WWE website earlier in the day: one for Breakout Star of the Year, and the other for Faction of the Year. Roman had been the only Shield member to reel in a solo mention, the "What a Maneuver!" award, for his own dominating version of the popular spear.

If Dean hoped to stand out, he had to start trying to make a name for himself, since it was looking like the bond he had built with Roman and Seth was crumbling under the pressure of the big leagues. Roman tried to take the lead, building up to the list of nominees, but Dean was an opportunist when it counted the most, and he cut his friend off, bringing their speech to a close as the camera cut to the video. Knowing they were off of the camera and the TitanTron, Roman glared at Dean, leaning against the podium until it was time to announce the winner. Dean took a long pause, trying to build up to saying the name, but Roman returned the favor from earlier and snatched his chance away, telling the fans in attendance that Shawn Michaels had earned that particular Slammy.

After slipping past Gorilla position, Dean and Seth banded together, heading toward their locker room, and Roman followed farther behind, pulling out his cell phone and making a call. They could hear his voice but couldn't make out exactly what was being said. When they returned to their locker room, Seth and Dean went to their bags immediately to get changed for later in the night. Dean had a match against Punk, and Seth was going out to support him. They assumed Roman would as well, wanting to be there to offer his own moral support since that was what the script called for, but he apparently had other plans.

"All right, I'll see you in just a bit," Roman said into his phone, sitting heavily on the couch. "Yeah, I'm going to cut out of here early. I'll come grab you in a little while," he said, pausing while the person on the other end of the line spoke. "Sounds good. See you soon, bye."

"Uh..." Seth sighed, "I don't know who that was, but we have stuff to do here. You're supposed to be coming out with me and Dean for his match."

"Ah, shit, he has a match? I thought we were done for the night, but it doesn't matter. You don't need me there," Roman said.

"I saw you reading the script earlier, so I don't know how you missed it, but we _all_ have to be out there, unless you want to risk punishment," Seth said. "I don't know about you, but I'm not trying to get in trouble at a time when we need to be trying our damnedest to get pushes. That would be a really stupid move, and what would Hunter and Stephanie think?"

"Fine, whatever. I'll get changed, go out for Dean's match, and then leave," Roman replied.

He went to his bag, stashed messily on the floor, and started to dig around blindly for his gear. Seth shook his head behind Roman's back and widened his eyes when Dean met his gaze. Roman was turning into someone they hardly knew any longer, and Seth didn't want it to affect him, but it did. It would have been much easier not to care at all, but he couldn't find it in himself to be emotionless, although, sometimes he wished to hell he could.

At the start of Dean's match, it became clear to everyone watching that a win on his part would be no easy feat. Still, he battled away, wanting to prove to himself and everyone else that he had the skills necessary to be every bit as great as Roman was, and maybe even better. Punk tried to take him up into the GTS at one point, but Dean bounced him off the ropes and kneed him directly in the ribs, tossing him to the outside like trash, where Roman and Seth stood watching. They sized Punk up, trash-talking him while he sat in a daze on the floor, recovering from the blow of Dean's kneecap to his midsection.

In the past, he might have been thrilled for his friends to have his back, but with the issues they hadn't yet worked through, the only thing he felt was blinded by anger. Dean hopped out of the ring and approached Seth first, letting him know he meant business. If he was going to win the match and have a chance at proving himself, he would have to do the work alone, and there was no way he would let Seth ruin that opportunity for him. He went to Roman next, making it loud and clear that he could defeat Punk on his own and that he needed Seth's and Roman's help like he needed a kick to the ass. Therein, Dean entered a dichotomy in which his life lent itself to art.

On one hand, Dean had a pre-written script tell him to shoo Seth and Roman away so he could finish his match and bring in a win, but he also had Dean outside of the ring, wanting desperately for the two men in his group to fade into oblivion and allow him a fair shot at making a name for himself. It wasn't difficult to tap into the side of him that ordered Seth and Roman away, because he truly wanted them gone in that moment. So far away that he wouldn't have been able to catch a glimpse of them even through the eyes of a microscope. Both in the script and in reality, he got his wish, as they shrugged his demands off, returning up the ramp as they left him to his own devices, tired and alone in the ring.

He had wanted, hoped, and wished for a favorable outcome, and just that quickly, he was resting on Punk's shoulders, his face coming down hard on Punk's knee. And it was over. The match was nothing but a thing of the past, and before he could even so much as wipe the sweat from his brow, Roman was entering the ring and barreling into Punk with a spear, bringing him down for what would inevitably be quite a long while. Despite it all, Dean was happy with his performance, and not only his in-ring skill but also the fact that The Shield had come out on top once more. Seth grabbed Dean's beat-up body and practically tossed him over the barricade single-handedly, Roman following as they returned to the back.

They formed a circle in the hallway, Seth spitting the bad taste of a tough night out of his mouth as he tossed a towel to Dean so he could tend to his sweat-covered face. Seth was also first to break the silence. "So let's all get rested up and come back refreshed and ready to go on Sunday. I have a feeling this handicap match is going to be a good thing for all of us."

"I think so, too," Dean said.

"There was a whole lot of stuff going on out there tonight that shouldn't have happened," Roman said. "We were cutting each other off during speeches, giving each other dirty looks, and, sure, it added to the mood and vibe we're supposed to be giving off for our storyline right now, but we all really need to get a grip. I mean it. I'm not going to set myself or you guys up to go out on Sunday at TLC and look like fools."

"I agree. Let's just put all this stupid stuff behind us and show up ready to go on Sunday," Dean said. "My game face will be on, and I hope yours will, too."

"Are we working out together in the morning?" Seth asked, eyes darting from Roman to Dean and back again. He wanted desperately to regain some sense of normalcy, even if his behavior hadn't exactly been a solution to the problem. There was always another day to work on themselves and smooth the rough edges of their friendship out, but it would have to come later, once he had sufficient time for personal reflection. "What do you say? I won't be a jackass, if you guys won't."

"It's a deal," Dean said, shaking on it with both men. Seth extended his hand to Roman, and he paused, watching Seth's open hand for a minute before he gave a nod and shook as well.

"You've got yourself a deal. I'll go back to our hotel room for sleep, but I'm going out tonight first, so I might be a while," Roman explained. "I'm taking Eva Marie out, actually, and before you question me again, Seth, I know I said I didn't like her, but I think I might have been wrong. She's not so bad, and she's really hot, which is always a plus. You don't have to like her, but can you at least be cordial when you see her? I would do it for both of you if you had a girl you were starting to like, even if I didn't think she was your best option."

"Yeah, sure, I can be cool with her. I'll go you one better and apologize to her for what happened at dinner the other night," Seth offered. He held his hands up, adding, "I'm not admitting fault, but I'm extending an olive branch so we can move past our differences for your sake."

"Thanks, man. That means a lot," Roman clapped him on the shoulder, looking at Dean. "What about you?"

"I'm pretty chill, when it comes down to it, so, yeah, I can get along with her. She hasn't done anything bad to me...yet," he smiled, high-fiving Roman. "Just kidding. I'm going to get a shower, but if you're sticking around, we can ride back to the hotel together, Seth."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Okay," Roman said, "so I'm going to grab my stuff and head out. Thanks for being cool about this, you guys."

"No problem," Dean said. The three were just about to head their separate ways before Dean called them back together. "Um, since nobody felt the need to mention this, I'll just go ahead and say it: you both know we all need to have a long talk about what's been going on, right? We have to be on the same page all the time, like we used to be."

"Why don't we talk tomorrow morning?" Seth proposed. "We're all riding to Smackdown together, so we might as well have breakfast before we hit the road, and that way we can clear the air on all this crap that's been going on."

"That works for me," Roman agreed.

They split up after a round of goodbyes, Roman going off in search of Eva Marie, while Seth and Dean returned to the locker room to gather their belongings. Had they been watching their surroundings a little closer, they might have noticed the flash of fiery red hair peeking from just around the corner nearest to their meeting place. Eva had been in on their discussion and was already figuring out how to attach the puppet strings to the three Shield members bodies so she could make them dance to her heart's content. Until then, she had other plans.

Plans that were going to make their previous disagreements look like child's play.


	5. Pain With a Dash of Black-and-Blue

A/N: Okay, really, was I the only one holding my breath when Roman went over the announcers' table this evening? Goodness! I felt so awful for him, and I'm hoping he's not too badly hurt, but I suppose that remains to be seen. Overall, it was a great match, aside from the fact that our Hounds of Justice lost, but there's always next time, right? More specifically, there's always the Royal Rumble, and I'm not gonna lie, I hope Roman wins, or at least comes close. Anyway, thanks so much for reading this story, and, again, your reviews are lovely and encourage me to keep this story going. Thanks so much, you guys, and I really hope you enjoy.

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It was clobbering time, as Punk so loved to shout from the top of the ramp during his weekly entrances. And he was absolutely right, because it _would_ be clobbering time — for Punk himself. Roman shook his wrists out, speaking lowly to himself as he prepped mentally for their upcoming handicap match, roaming the crowded hallway and ignoring the cheers and chants from nearby fans as they stood in various lines, both at the concession stands and while waiting to buy merchandise. Seth dumped a bottle of water over his head, and Dean folded his arms across his midsection, chewing noisily on a piece of gum and humming the chorus of his favorite song, nerves buzzing to life when CM Punk's music hit from inside the arena.

For a couple of minutes, Punk was able to bask in the salutes of his fans, a deafening roar spreading through the crowd like a lit line of gasoline and echoing in each of the Shield members' ears. Breakfast had gone well during their previous meet-up before leaving Seattle for Smackdown earlier in the week and, as it was, they had worked out a system to all be on the same page more often than not. Sure, there would still be tiffs here and there, but they were working more like a well-oiled machine than they had in a long time and most of the tension was on the back burner. The boys, for the most part, were in agreement than any success was good success, regardless of who came upon it sooner, and that particular mindset served as the true key to friendship, because they were solid and prepared beyond measure.

_Sierra, Hotel, India, Echo, Lima, Delta!_

Their heads snapped to attention in unison, like a row of soldiers, each of the men with their minds in the game, and Dean led the way, closely followed by Seth, and rounded out by Roman in the back. So engrossed in the details of the match, they hardly registered the fans' clammy, invading hands, greasy from the film of fresh popcorn butter, as the spectators patted their shoulders, arms, and any part of their bodies they could get to during their march to the ring. Punk waited patiently in the squared circle, not a care in the world, but he should have been scared, or at the very least concerned, because he had the beating of a lifetime coming his way and was outnumbered to a fault. By the time they reached the ring, mind games were in full swing, as the trio stood near their corner, taunting Punk from across the way.

"Let's do this, Dean," Seth hissed.

"Yeah, you've got this," Roman added.

Dean allowed their words to sink in and converted the helpful sentiments to raw strength, staring Punk down long enough to intimidate him, or so he thought. Then, they locked up, and the match was on. They were first on the card and had the most to prove, aside from the obvious built-up anticipation for the main event, but that was another story in itself. Right away, Dean's spirit was broken by the rowdy 'CM Punk' chants, but he reminded himself that his time to be loved and admired by the fans would come, as it would for Roman and Seth, eventually. When he broke away from Punk, or was thrown away, rather, Dean returned to the corner for a brief pep talk from his teammates, resulting in his smart decision to tag Seth in.

Seething like a rabid dog, Seth had to practically tug Dean out of the ring altogether, and they went on like that, Seth tagging to Roman and back again, each of them enjoying fleeting rests in between their ring work. Problem was, no one saw the danger lurking in Roman's beastly rage, which often surfaced during the heat of the moment, but it reared its ugly head in the worst of ways. Punk was taken down with brute force by a clothesline, his body rocked with spasms as Roman delivered a series of unforgiving kicks to his abdomen. Roman tossed Punk out of the ring, directly in front of the announcer's table, and climbed out to the mats himself, to stare down a flock of fans who weren't cheering in his favor.

He grew disinterested in them fairly quickly, setting his sights back on Punk and smirking as a brilliant idea came to him. His eyes zeroed in on Punk, sizing him up, and he went for it, tearing across the mat to spear Punk right through his core...but was met instead with the cold, blank air. The sheer momentum involved was enough to send Roman's body flying through the air like a rag doll's, and it ended with him lying broken and hidden by the wounded announcers' table, screaming in pain and holding his injured eye. It had all happened so fast that he couldn't pinpoint exactly how his eye had suffered or where he had hit it, but his vision exploded into a flash of colors: green, blue, pink, and purple, forming a kaleidoscope that only he could see.

The company doctor jogged over, kneeling down beside him. "Roman," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Are you okay, or do you need help to the back?"

"I fucked up my eye," he growled, keeping it covered with his hand, the only protective mask he would have until he made it to the back to be properly treated. Leave it to him to inadvertently wreck one of the most important matches of his life, leading not only into his individual push, but into the 2014 Royal Rumble, which he was determined to win, someway, somehow.

"Just rest for a minute," he directed.

Roman was in too much pain to respond, and the remainder of the match was a blur, with his only catching bits and pieces of Seth and Dean gaining the upper hand, only to lose it every so often. With Dean as the legal man, Punk attempted the GTS, and when Seth climbed into the ring to break Punk's grip, he took Seth down with his finishing maneuver instead. No one was safe from Punk's wrath, but The Shield still had the numbers in their favor and thought they could pull a win off. As it turned out, they thought wrong. Sensing that his team was in desperate need of help, Roman worked through the pain that was nearly rendering him blind, going for a spear on Punk, but, again, Punk was one step ahead.

He ducked out of the way at the final second, leaving an unsuspecting Dean directly in the path of a savage spear by Roman's own hand. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, and Punk pushed Roman out of the ring, dropping down on top of a dazed Dean and getting the three-count. The bell rang and Punk's music blared through the arena speakers, accompanying his solo celebration all the way up the ramp. Roman was left with nothing to do except watch Dean as he writhed in pain on the mat below, another loss at the hands of miscommunication and unpreparedness. Seth came to join him for the fans' sake, at least attempting to cheer him up while Dean recovered, and just that quickly, it was over.

When he stumbled backstage, Roman was whisked away almost immediately by on-site medical personnel, who wanted to treat him in the medic's room and make certain his eye wasn't too critically damaged. Eva Marie must have been watching the match unfold on one of many backstage monitors, because she was waiting to intercept Roman, latching onto his arm and following him to the medical room. Seth and Dean, battered and bruised, decided on getting cleaned up before going to see Roman, since he at least had Eva to support him while they were away. Through the blood, sweat, and tears left behind on the mat, all three men had given their best effort, which was more than anyone could ask for.

Around twenty minutes and tons of self-reflection later, Seth crept up to the medic's room door, Dean following close behind as he rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. It was open, but only a crack, so he spoke into the empty space. "Doc, is Roman still in here?"

"I'm here, man," Roman called out.

Seth pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding Roman sitting up on the examination table with a concerned-looking Eva Marie latched onto his hand. Seth reached his own hand out and gave Roman's knee an encouraging pat, Dean doing the same. Each of them took a seat at the side of the cot, folding their hands and keeping quiet, soaking in the silence. They were at a point in their friendship where words weren't always needed, but leave it to Eva to not understand that facet of their joint relationship.

"You boys did a great job protecting Roman out there," she said, voice dripping with so much sarcasm that the resulting ooze had landed in a figurative puddle at her feet. Seth made eye contact with Dean, sending him a silent reminder of what they had spoken about over the weekend. Eva Marie was no longer going to bait them into arguments, and the sooner she realized she held not a single ounce of power with them, the sooner she would quit putting in the effort to destroy their chipper moods. "I see neither of you are hurt, but Roman takes the brunt of everything. Why did it take you so long to come check on him?"

"We were showering," Dean shrugged. "We knew he was okay enough to be left alone with you for a while so we could at least take our showers, or were we wrong?"

"Nope, you were completely right," she said, sweeping her hand over Roman's cheek, careful to avoid his smarting eye. She smiled up at him, twisting a dangling lock of his hair around her index finger, and Seth smirked, enjoying the feeling of letting nothing get to him. He had taken his power back, as he should have done from the start. "Seems that I'm the only one around here who actually cares about my man."

"Yeah, well, we care about him, but this _is_ the wrestling business, and injuries are inevitable," Seth pointed out. He couldn't expect Eva to understand such a novel concept. After all, she hadn't put forth the simple effort to pronounce Jinder Mahal's name properly during her flash in the pan stint as ring announcer, so chances were even slimmer that she would know the first thing about their lives inside the ring. Professional wrestling was a brutal world she would likely never be a real part of, other than to valet or involve herself in the odd women's tag match here or there. "Stuff happens, and, I mean, I did all I could do and went to check on him right after it happened."

"If that's all you could do, then I guess there's nothing more to talk about," Eva said. Her eyes flitted from Seth's face to Dean's, as if waiting for an argument that she could feel building, and Seth reveled in the look of disappointment that swept over her features when she realized it wasn't coming. "Why are you guys so quiet tonight? You normally have _so_ much to say."

"I've been told I have a big mouth, so I'm learning how to shut it," Seth said, smiling at Roman, who chuckled at their inside joke. Over the weekend, Roman had been the one to point out that Seth needed a filter on his mouth, and Seth had promised he would serve as his own filter, no matter the case. He had too much to look forward to, in life and in his career, to get angry over a woman who probably wouldn't be a factor at all in any of their lives by the time the following year rolled around.

"What about you, Dean?" Eva said, still actively trying to poke and prod. She was persistent, if nothing else; Seth had to give her that. "Do you have a big mouth that you're trying hard to shut, too?"

"Not really. I'm just chillin'," he smiled, leaning back into his seat and folding his arms behind his head. He used the wall for balance, swatting Seth's arm when he thought of a question he meant to ask earlier. "Hey, man, do you have any gum? I left mine in our locker room."

"Oh, yeah, hold on," Seth said. He reached into his pants pocket and dug around, producing a new pack of gum. He tore around the seal and pulled the paper top off, sliding a fresh stick out and tossing it into Dean's awaiting hand.

"Thanks," Dean said, unfolding the foil wrapper and popping its contents into his mouth.

"No problem," he said, adding, "Hey, Roman, where's the doc?"

"He went to grab me an ice pack, since everyone took the pre-made ones that were in here," Roman replied. "He said there's nothing seriously wrong with my eye and that the only reason it hurt so bad out there was from the shock of the blow. He also told me I'll probably have a nasty shiner in the morning, so he wants me to keep ice on it all night."

"What did you hit it on?" Dean asked. "I couldn't tell."

"The corner of the table," he replied. "It all happened so fast, but I just remember flying over the announcers' table, but I didn't make it all the way, and my face bumped the edge. I fucking couldn't see a damn thing out of my eye. I was cussing all up and down the place."

"I heard you from across the ring," Seth said, "and that was over the cheers of the fans, so you know it was loud."

"It sucks getting hurt," Roman said, biting at his bottom lip and sighing. "I guess if I had to get hurt at all, then at least it wasn't a serious injury."

"That's true," Dean said. "You've gotta always find the little bit of good in the bad stuff."

"Thanks for coming to check on me, you guys," Roman said. "I would do it for either of you if you got injured, but you know what I mean. It's nice to at least have people coming back here to see how I'm doing. Could you imagine how depressing it would be if nobody liked you, and you got injured and just had to sit back here alone for the night?"

"I don't really know what it feels like to have nobody like me," Seth said, turning to the man at his side. "Hey, Dean, how's it feels when nobody can stand you? I'm sure you're well-versed in that."

Dean held his middle finger up directly in front of Seth's face. Roman chuckled, laughing even harder when the doctor chose that exact moment to walk in, finding Dean in the middle of his obscene gesture. Dean's face reddened and he lowered his hand to his lap, Seth pointing a finger and laughing silently at him as the doctor carried the ice pack over to Roman and directed him to place it over his eye. Roman hissed at the contact, his skin needing an adjustment period to get used to the freezing temperatures of the ice chips.

"Am I free to go?" Roman asked. He still hadn't gotten a chance to clean up after their match and was desperate for a shower so he could head back to the hotel, eat, and get some much-needed rest. He only had so many hours to sleep before they would have to be back on the road, heading to Raw the next day.

"You are," the doctor nodded. "Just ice your eye, get lots of rest, drink lots of fluids, and tomorrow's a new day. Good luck."

"Thanks," Roman said, sliding off the cot and giving himself a couple of extra seconds to get steady on his feet. A few locks of his hair stuck to his cheek, skin sticky with sweat, and Eva Marie reached up to sweep the offending hair away with her finger, taking Roman's free hand in hers. "Are you walking back with me, Eva?"

"Yeah. I was thinking I could wait for you to finish with your shower and we could go out for dinner again tonight. You know, since we had so much fun together last time," she suggested.

"Sure. That sounds good." Roman crossed the room and was first out the door, Eva hanging off of him like a coat on a rack, as Dean and Seth followed closely behind, mapping out their own plans for the night.

They were going to let Roman do as he pleased without interference, and if they were proven right by Eva Marie eventually screwing him over like they had guessed, they would be there to help him pick up the pieces. There was no sense in fighting like mad each and every week, nor was it getting them any closer to where they wanted to be career-wise. Seth had his eyes on the Rumble, as did his friends, but spots were limited, and he would have to start focusing on reaching his goals if he wanted to become a real star at the first pay-per-view of the new year, when it finally rolled around. Simply put, he had bigger fish to fry than disliking his friend's girlfriend.

They returned to the Shield locker room as a group, and Dean and Seth made a grab for their bags, Seth announcing, "We're going to head out. We'll probably get a bite to eat, hang out at the hotel bar, hit on some chicks, you know how it goes."

"Yeah," Roman laughed. "That's cool. I'll meet back up with you guys in our hotel room, but I'll probably beat you there. I've gotta get some pretty heavy sleep before tomorrow."

"All right, sounds good," Dean said. They exchanged pleasantries and were almost out the door when Eva Marie's voice cut in.

"So, you're really leaving?" she asked. Dean nudged Seth forward, not wanting him to forget their previous discussion and be led into Eva's spiraling web, but Seth spun around.

"Yes, we're leaving. That's why we're walking toward the door," he answered smartly.

"Oh, how nice of you," she said, averting her eyes and adjusting her blouse, which revealed enough cleavage that it was almost the first thing anyone looked at when they saw her coming. Somehow it was fitting for her, the way it screamed for attention and all.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Seth asked.

"Come on, Seth. Remember what we talked about?" Dean whispered through clenched teeth. "Keep walking."

"No, she made a comment, and I just want to know what she means by it," Seth declared. "What exactly are you getting at Eva?"

Roman shook his head, grabbing his towel and heading into the bathroom. He felt a storm brewing and didn't want to be present for it when the rain eventually fell. Eva shrugged, picking at the slightly chipped polish on her nails. "I'm just saying."

"Saying what, exactly?" Seth prodded, waving her on. "I'm only curious."

"It seems to me if you were truly a friend of Roman's, you would at least be spending tonight with him to make sure he's really okay. I barely know him, yet _I'm_ the one staying with him while you guys go off doing who knows what," she said. "Maybe you're not as good friends as you think you are."

Dean tapped Seth's arm again, and he nodded. Dean took that as his cue and opened the door, slipping out into the hallway, and Seth followed close behind, but not without sending Eva a smirk, leaving her with a final thought before he was gone. "Nice try, Eva. Goodnight."

The door clicked shut behind him with a succinct finality, and she sucked at her teeth, fidgeting with the ends of her hair. Another night had gone to waste, which was just another night she had to plan ahead to get Roman all to herself. He would be much easier to control without the backing of his friends, and the sooner she made that happen, the sooner she could use the advantages that came along with Roman to her little heart's desire. All she needed was a surefire way to eliminate Seth and Dean from the equation, and what she was already doing was clearly no longer working. There had to be another way to get what she wanted. There had to be alternative means by which to take what was so rightfully hers, in her mind.

There just had to be.


	6. Just an Illusion

A/N: I would like to start by apologizing for the late update. I got a little behind on this story, so I skipped the last couple of Raw episodes that I missed and picked it right back up at this week's Raw. Thank you for reading and for all of your amazing reviews. They mean the world to me and give me the extra boost I need to keep writing. Happy New Year, everyone! Do something great this year!

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In Dean's mind, the most favorable outcome for the conclusion of 2013 was to end the career of one man: CM Punk. His foes could get away with a lot in the ring, but not when their actions involved going so far as to accuse him of being the "weak link" of the group. In The Shield, there were _no_ weak links, and if he had to take one for the team and beat the life out of Punk to prove his findings as such, he was glad to bear such a cross. Then, Brad Maddox, little weasel in a suit that he was, had to come down and strip Dean of his power, laying down the sole decision for Seth to be the one to face Punk one-on-one that evening.

The wind was instantly let out of Dean's sails with a wallowing whistle; once again, he was being overlooked. Roman got attention in waves, and Seth was rapidly climbing up the ranks and becoming a favorite in the eyes of those who mattered in upper management, but where was Dean? He was lowest on the totem pole, a generally reliable guy, but one who was expendable, and that was a scary thought. When Vince decided a man was replaceable, more oft then not, they were released from their contract soon after, and that simply wasn't an option for Dean — not after how hard he had worked to prove himself.

He lost his cool straight away, not finding it difficult at all to work up the feelings of helplessness required to pull off the opening segment of Raw completely in character, as he played and pandered to the crowd's raw emotions. In reality, he dealt with the same sense of anxiety-driven despair, watching his dream slip away like a balloon, floating from the ground to outer space, never to return. He was out in the open, meandering all on his own with no guidance or support, aside from that of his friends, and it scared him. The thought of being removed from the main roster and sent home to watch his friends prosper while he resigned himself to the memory of days gone by wasn't an experience he was eager to endure.

Luckily, Roman was in good spirits, for the most part, and humored his multiple outbursts during the match, laughing with each of his attempts to enter the ring and teach Punk a lesson on Seth's behalf. There was a time or two where Roman lost his cool, but the group had each other's backs when it counted the most, and this was a night when emotional support counted for everything. In the end, carelessness on Seth's part was what lost him the match, or the creative team's writing of the outcome, depending on how one perceived it. He shot over the top rope, landing squarely on Punk's shoulders and giving him the grand opportunity of planting him on the mat below, courtesy of the GTS.

_1, 2, 3!_

It was a relief for Seth to hear the three-count, because he was eager to return to the back. He recalled a time when he thrived on the buzz of the crowd, longed for the cheers — or boos — to rain down on him and drown all his nervous thoughts out, until he was so lost in the match he didn't register anything except the movements of the person in the ring across from him. Those were the days when his job had been fun, but the more the pressure built, gathering on his shoulders like Tetris blocks, the less he enjoyed being at work. It was almost an automatic release of stress to be anywhere else, even if it wasn't at home in Iowa, because when he was away from the arenas, he saw his career from a more open standpoint and realized that it wasn't everything; except, it almost was.

Seth wasn't himself for the entire night, sitting on the couch with folded arms and a crease in his brow, long after his match had come to a close. Roman and Dean sensed the storm brewing just beyond the depths of his eyes and, for the most part, left him alone to work out his troubles by way of his own brainpower. Eva Marie, however, had different plans. "What's wrong with you, Seth? You haven't said a word since you came back here."

"Nothing," he shrugged, not bothering to look up from the random point in the center of the floor that his pupils decided to transfix on. "I'm good to go."

"You're obviously not, though," she countered. Roman brought his head down on her hair, brushing his palm in a continuous downward motion against her flaming locks.

"Come on, babe, give him a break," Roman said, pleading with his eyes. "He's not in the mood to talk, and you shouldn't push him."

"I just think it's rude, that's all," Eva shrugged, pressing her forehead into Roman's chest. "You guys are supposed to be his friends, so he could at least acknowledge you."

Roman slipped his hulking arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. They hadn't been on any official dates, aside from the dinners they enjoyed together after each show, but Eva's and Roman's relationship was picking up steam, starting to form into something real. Seth felt a certain amount of pressure to be nice to her, regardless of how horrid he found her personality to be, because Roman liked her, and he would have wanted Roman to be nice to any girl he liked, had the situation been reversed. Every so often, though, Eva slipped under his skin in the worst of ways, setting the blood running through his veins on fire and igniting a throbbing pulse in his forehead that wouldn't go away until he released himself.

He no longer wanted to give her the satisfaction anymore. Eva Marie dug at him, noticeably more often than she did with Dean, and it had become obvious to him after careful consideration that there was a reason for that. Dean didn't give her the desired reaction, but Seth _did_. He allowed her to toy with him, like a dog mashing a squeeze ball in between its teeth, and he wouldn't allow it any longer. Her days of controlling his environment were numbered. Seth stood, grabbing his zip-up sweater and pulling it on. He searched his bag for his baseball cap, slipping that over his head as well and pulling his ponytail out through the hole in back.

Without so much as a final look her way, Seth tossed over his shoulder, "See you guys in a bit. I'm going to get some fresh air."

"All right, man," Dean said.

"Let us know if you need anything," Roman called out through the open door, but Seth was already darting away, like a prison escapee. He didn't want to look like a complete maniac, so he slowed to a light jog, making it appear to anyone watching that he simply had someplace to be in a short amount of time. In reality, he was escaping; from his fears, his insecurities, and everything in between. The only problem he hadn't anticipated was that there was always a single person he could never escape: himself.

Time was of the essence but was also easier to lose track of than Seth had foreseen. It wasn't until the repetitive clank of the arena doors cut through his thoughts that he realized people were leaving, one after another. He had been outside for the entirety of Raw, except for the brief few minutes he had slipped into catering for something to drink. His friends hadn't come to get him, which surprised him, but certainly didn't offend. They knew him better than anyone and probably assumed the alone time would do him some good, both mentally and emotionally. Perhaps he could extend his moment of solitude to the road and travel alone for once. It might be refreshing to have his own car and get lost in his own thoughts without having to block outside chatter.

No sooner had he jumped down from the ledge he had been sitting on than Dean came pushing out of the doors, Roman a few paces behind with Eva Marie on his arm. Seth held back an eye roll at the sight of her and grabbed his bag from Dean, who had been nice enough to bring it out to him. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah, no problem, bro," Dean answered. Seth walked to the car alongside him, waiting for the onslaught of questions as to why he had hidden himself away for most of the show, but the anticipated barrage never came. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought his friends were avoiding the subject entirely, for fear it might make him lash out. Seth had a bit of a moody side on occasion, and Dean and Roman likely didn't want to create any waves by pressing him for information.

"Hey, Seth," Eva called from behind him. When he didn't answer and continued walking, she took it upon herself to continue. "Guess what? I proposed an idea that we all ride home together tomorrow, so that's what we're doing! You actually get my company for several hours during our road trip. Isn't that exciting?"

"I'm thrilled," Seth deadpanned, slipping around to the trunk of their car and waiting for it to be unlocked.

Dean came around back with him and opened it. While Eva had Roman distracted, whispering something in his ear, Dean leaned in toward Seth, mumbling, "Don't let her get the best of you. Just ignore her like I do."

"I am," Seth replied. He tried to climb into the backseat of the car after stuffing his bag in trunk, but a firm hand came down on his arm from behind, bringing him to a sudden halt. He turned around, not in much of a talking mood, but when he saw that it was Roman, he relaxed. Roman was like a brother, and he could always make time for him. "What's up, man?"

"Can we talk for a minute?" Roman requested.

"Yeah, sure," Seth said. Dean continued packing everyone's bags, even going so far as to take Eva Marie's. She didn't bother thanking him, and Seth barely managed to restrain himself from calling her out on her rudeness, as she saw fit to do with everyone else so often. Eva was no longer his battle to fight, though, as a much larger one was brewing, so he bit his tongue and followed Roman a few steps away. Roman reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, and Seth shrugged. "What is it?"

"I'm sure you guys know how important the picture my dad gave me is," Roman began. Sika, one half of the Wild Samoans and dedicated father of Roman, had gifted him a picture of himself backstage, just before he made the walk to the ring for his debut wrestling match years before. It served as a token of the faith Sika had in his youngest son to make his dreams come true in the squared circle, and Roman carried the picture every week in his bag, as a good luck charm, of sorts. "I always keep it in the side pocket of my bag, so imagine my surprise when I checked for it this evening and it was gone."

"Um, okay," Seth nodded slowly, scanning Roman's eyes with his own. He wasn't sure whether he was being accused of stealing or not, but it sure felt like he was. "I don't know where it is, if that's what you're wondering. I have no reason to go inside your bag and take something like that."

"I don't like pointing fingers or making accusations, but someone who I trust told me they saw you take it out of my bag earlier," Roman said, folding his arms across his chest. "I kept asking myself what reason you could possibly have for taking that picture. It wouldn't hold much meaning for you, since it's _my_ dad in the photo and not yours, so I couldn't figure out why you would even want it. But then, I started thinking about mind games and how many of the guys in the back play them on people they're supposed to be friends with. If this was a joke or you were just messing with me, I can easily forgive that. I'm only going to say this once, but if you took my dad's picture, then you need to give it back."

"Whatever, dude." Seth rolled his eyes and spun around, preparing to get in the car. Roman, however, had other plans and caught him by the wrist, whirling him back around so fast he feared he had suffered whiplash.

"We're not done here," he said, voice cold and hollow, so unlike the warm friend Seth had come to know in their time together.

"Look, I didn't take your damn picture, all right?" Seth said, growing defensive in his own right. Dean had completely stopped what he was doing, in favor of watching the messy scene play out. Eva was curiously quiet, leaning against the car and pretending to pick casually at her nails, even though she was quite obviously eavesdropping. "Who the hell told you I have it? When I find out who, I'm going to whoop their ass, because they're doing nothing except causing pointless problems for me. I don't have your picture, Roman!"

"Well, you're not going to whoop a girl's ass, so that's out of the list of possibilities, but I was told you took it, and I don't even want to fight about it or ask any more questions," Roman said, eyes darting to Eva momentarily and back to Seth again. "I just want you to give it back so we can move on with our night. This is stupid and petty, and it needs to end."

"Wait, hold up a minute," Seth said, holding his hands up in a halting motion. He glared at Eva as she conveniently averted her eyes, escaping the looks of suspicion that both Dean and Seth were sending her way. Suddenly, everything fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and Seth saw the situation for what it truly was. He was astounded that Roman would be gullible enough to fall for Eva's lies, but sometimes when a girl put stars in a man's eyes, it was difficult to see past their brightness and into the realities of life. "Let me guess; Eva was the one who told you she saw me taking the picture, right?"

"Not that it matters," Roman said, "but, yes, she saw you do it."

"It does matter, actually, and I'm not surprised a single bit," Seth said, rolling his eyes. "Don't you find it interesting that I was barely even in the locker room this evening, except to get changed before my match and to shower afterward? The only time I spent in the locker room was when you and Dean were in there with me, and I was out here for the rest of the night, so how could I have possibly stolen it without either of you noticing? Can't you put that together in your mind and see what's going on?"

"I see you dragging something out that shouldn't be dragged out for this long," Roman said, tone gravely and growing deeper the more irritated he became. Eva Marie pushed off the side of the car and sidled up to Roman, wrapping her arms around his waist and pretending to be supportive, despite being anything but. "Eva saw you take it, so this is an easy thing to clear up. All you have to do is pull your bag out of the back, open it up, and show everyone that you don't have it. As long as it's not in there, we should have no problems."

"You have no rights to what's in my bag," Seth shot back.

"Spoken like a true liar," Eva mumbled under her breath.

"Shut up, Eva, okay?" Seth grumbled. "I've had enough of your bullshit to last me a lifetime."

"Don't talk to her like that," Roman demanded, wrapping a protective arm around her. "You don't talk to a lady like that, regardless of how you feel about her, so just watch what you say."

"Seriously," Seth backed away, "I'm tired and I don't have time for this. Dean, get the car started and let's go. If they want to be all melodramatic and stand out here, then let them, but I want to get some sleep before we have to get back on the road in the morning."

Dean started to walk away, but Roman slipped right through Eva's hands, rushing to Dean and grabbing his arm. "Hold it. Nobody leaves until this is figured out. You guys might not think the picture is important, but I've had that since I made my debut in wrestling, and I want it back. Whoever took it had no right to do that, or to even be in my bag in the first place."

"We didn't take your picture, all right?" Seth repeated, eyes flashing and exhales leaving him in frantic spurts. Suddenly, he wanted to do anything that would erase the unease amongst his friends. With the cheer of the holidays upon them, he didn't feel it appropriate to fight when they should have been giving thanks for all the blessings that had been bestowed upon them during the past year. Seth knew he didn't take the picture, and if all Roman needed was a little confirmation, he could provide him that, and maybe it would even help Roman to see Eva for the conniving snake that she was. "Listen, Ro, if you need proof, I'll just show you my bag. I don't even care anymore. I'll show you that I don't have it and this can be done."

Roman's chest noticeably deflated, and he gave a sigh of relief. "That's all I'm asking for. I just want my picture back."

"Fine," Seth said, returning to the back of the car and opening the trunk.

Dean followed, wringing his hands in an apprehensive, self-conscious sort of way, as if he could feel that the night wasn't going to end well. Their group couldn't deal with any more fractures to the bond they had built, but it was looking more like dissension would overtake them, drowning them all until they were finally tugged away from each other and left to go it alone. If anyone _didn't _want to see that happen, it was Seth. He tugged his bag out of the mound Dean had packed, and they used the overhead lights in the vehicle to go through what was inside.

Seth moved his dirty clothing aside, wrinkling his nose at the whiff of stale sweat that drifted up to his nostrils when he moved his ring gear. He raked his hands over the remaining contents of his bag, proud to show he wasn't in possession of anything that didn't belong to him, but then it happened. He unzipped the side pouch, slipping his hand in to show that nothing was there, and pulling out Sika's picture, faded and wrinkled at the corners and edges, property of Roman. He imagined his eyes expanded as widely as Roman's in that split second, and he began shaking his head vehemently, wanting to explain that he had no clue how the picture had gotten there, but the words weren't coming.

Roman nodded quietly to himself, accepting the findings and taking the picture back from Seth. Eva was latched onto Roman's arm like a leech, smiling in satisfaction. Dean gave Seth a friendly pat on the back from behind, and he was thankful for Dean's support, because it reminded him that he wasn't the only one not allowing the wool to be pulled over his eyes. Dean understood exactly what had happened, and it all started and ended with one woman. Seth shrugged, saying, "I didn't take the picture. I didn't see for myself how it ended up in my bag, but I bet I can guess who would have planted it there to frame me."

"Give it your best shot," Roman challenged. His tone was curiously low, making him seem just a little _too_ calm, but Seth knew there was a beast hidden inside him, just waiting for the opportunity to unleash itself. "Let's hear it."

"Don't you think it's interesting that none of your stuff has ever gone missing the entire time you've shared a locker room with me and Dean?" Seth pointed out. "Nobody has ever messed with your bag or anything inside it, but all of a sudden when Eva comes around, you can't find your picture. You don't find that even the slightest bit suspicious?"

"She wouldn't do something like this," Roman said, slipping his arm around her back and making Seth want to puke in the process. He couldn't figure out how Roman could be so blinded by a woman he barely knew that he couldn't put together what was right in front of him. "I know you don't get along with Eva, but blaming her for everything isn't going to help your case. Need I remind you that the picture was found in _your_ bag, and not hers?"

"Of course it was found in my bag," Seth said, "because she planted it there. None of this shit happens until she comes around, and you can't deduce that it's her causing all these problems? Way to think with the brain in your head, instead of thinking with the other head down below. This is her planting seeds to try and make you doubt me. She's starting with small things so she can move onto bigger stuff and make us duke it out with each other, and if you don't get that, then I don't know what else I can say that will convince you. It's so obvious."

"She has no reason to do something like this," he argued. "Why the hell would Eva take a picture that means essentially nothing to her? She has no reason to want it."

"And I do?" Seth asked. "I respect your pops and all, but I have no reason to take the picture, either. Eva has every reason to take it, if you want the truth. All she wants to do is frame me in an attempt to stir up more trouble between all of us, because she thinks it's funny. You know what; I don't need any of this high school bullshit."

Seth zipped his bag up and slung it over his shoulder, walking across the parking lot without a real sense of direction. He had no clue where he was going or how he would end up making it to any sort of favorable destination, but he was feeling the old, familiar urge to run. There was too much stress and not enough of an outlet to release it with, which was a recipe for disaster. He had never wanted to be more far away from Roman than he did in that moment, and when he heard Dean calling after him and running to catch up with him, he turned around and shooed him away.

"Just let me go, dude," Seth instructed. "I need to be alone."

"I can't just leave you out here," Dean called back. "You need dinner and a place to sleep, and you'll also need a car in the morning. How can you get all of that when you're traveling on foot? You won't make it anywhere by walking."

"I'll figure it out," Seth replied. "Right now, I just need to be away from him and her," he said, pointing toward Roman and Eva Marie, who were engaged in their own private conversation near the car, not the slightest bit worried about how Seth felt or what he was enduring inside. "I want to be alone, but thanks for everything. I'll call you in the morning, man."

"If you're sure," Dean said, hesitant about leaving him. Seth tossed two final words over his shoulder, continuing his aimless walk across the crowded lot.

"I'm positive."


	7. He Said, She Said

A/N: Once again, I got behind on this story, but I had to put this chapter up now, because I will be writing a new one for the Rumble this Sunday. Thank you so much for reading, guys. It really means a lot that you're liking the story, and I appreciate your reviews. Now, onto the next chapter!

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_There are no cracks in The Shield, Piper._

Seth had expressed that very sentiment in the ring and meant those words with every ounce of his being, but when he returned backstage, he couldn't say the same. Roman hadn't offered an apology, nor had he so much as admitted any fault for the incident the Monday prior. Eva Marie had infiltrated his mind and altered his senses enough to make him think he was actually justified in the matter, so Seth went on ignoring it, as if nothing was wrong at all. He had Dean on his side, and maybe that was all he needed. Or maybe, no matter how great his friend's support, it wouldn't be enough to carry him along.

He kept his mouth shut, partly for himself, but mostly because Dean was trusting him to carry the group on his broad shoulders while times were tough. Dean had been an exemplary friend — the kind that couldn't easily, if at all, be replaced — and Seth owed him a major favor. He didn't confront Roman, nor did he gripe when he was resigned to the back of their rental car, all so Eva Marie could ride in the front with Roman, filing her nails and chomping noisily on a piece of gum while Roman did the driving. Seth's MP3 player was lost somewhere in his bag, probably hidden away beneath his dirty ring gear, so he watched the passing scenery instead of digging it out.

Eva rattled off obnoxious questions, one after the other, about how much longer the trip would take, and Seth was tempted to roll up one of the magazines in his bag and catapult it at the back of her head. Her hair was piled at the top of her head, in a messy bun, and just the sight of it brought a glare to his face. He embarked on a silent standoff with her hairdo, wishing she would turn around so he could wither _her_ with a single look instead of her innocent locks, but she remained far too lost in herself to care about her surroundings. Dean had nodded off in the seat beside Seth and was snoring loudly, which was grating on Seth's nerves equally as much as Eva's existence.

"I need a break," Seth mumbled.

Roman surprised him, breaking away from inane conversation with Eva long enough to acknowledge his request. "What's up, Seth?"

"Nothing. I was just saying I wish we could stop off for a break."

"Bathroom break?" Roman asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. Eva Marie began gabbing away again and Seth rolled his eyes, but Roman didn't let up. "We're not near any gas stations right now, but there's a rest area quite a few miles up. We'll stop off and everyone can stretch their legs. Maybe somebody else can take over on the driving so I can move back there and get some sleep."

"I don't know how much sleep you're going to get with Dean back here," Seth pointed out, nudging Dean in the side with his elbow. He slept like a log and was unaffected by the soft blow, deeply sedated by the clutches of an intense doze. "He snores so damn loud my eardrums are vibrating."

"I think I can deal," Roman laughed.

He trained his eyes back on the road, nodding along to whatever Eva was saying, and Seth felt a strange sense of satisfaction settling overhead. Their exchange, average and mundane as it was, served as the first normal talk they had shared in days, possibly even weeks. In those fleeting seconds, it was like old times, just the three of them on the road, left with their thoughts. Eva wasn't doing damage by being around; Roman was doing the damage by allowing himself to be so easily swayed. He was changing for the worst, being influenced by those who barely knew him, and it was perhaps the first time Seth was able to see the truth for what it really was.

If their group should crumble, the fault would rest almost completely with Roman.

With their arrival into town for Smackdown, Eva was as vocal as ever about the hotel room situation. She made it a point to demand sharing a room with Roman, which would leave less time for the guys to discuss the details of their match. Eva seemed to cut in on all of their set habits and patterns from the past year, but when Seth's eyes met Dean's, detecting Dean's silent pleas for him not to speak out against Eva's request, he bit his tongue for what felt like the millionth time. If Roman wanted too allow himself to be run into the ground by someone more concerned about hogging him from his real friends than enjoying his company, he could do that.

Eventually, Roman would learn not to take Eva seriously, but until that happened, they had to back him one-hundred percent. The thought of exposing Eva for who she really was hadn't occurred to Seth until he was already tucked away in the hotel suite he was sharing with Dean, rolling his phone over in his hand after discovering a recording app on his phone. If he could get Eva alone and start the recording, he could find a way to pull something incriminating out of her, and Roman could hear for himself that she only wanted to use him for status in the company. Seth would get rid of her and get his friends back all at the same time, so their focus could return to work, where it should have been all along.

"So, what are we thinking for our match tonight?" Dean asked, sitting on the edge of the bed adjacent to Seth's. He took sips from a canned energy drink, sliding his free hand onto his thigh and resting it there. "We can get Roman in on this later and find out what he wants to do, but I say we plan our shit now. It'll be pretty cool working with the New Age Outlaws, and I want to be prepared."

"Yep, I watched them all the time as a kid," Seth said, statement devoid of all emotion. Dean sensed his distraction and wanted to give him time to recover, but the glint in Seth's eyes aroused his suspicions, and he couldn't just let it go.

"Uh-oh. What are you planning over there?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, frowning into the distance.

"Don't lie."

"I was just thinking," Seth held his cell phone up, staring at his reflection on the screen, since he had left the device untouched for so long that the light had dimmed, "we could make everything right again. Our group was fine until Eva came along and tried to start placing cracks where there are none, so why don't we outsmart her at her own game?"

"How would we do that?"

"This," Seth said, pointing to his phone and pressing a button to light the screen. Dean leaned over on his bed to see what he was talking about, squinting hard. "We should use this recording app to tape every word she says about how her relationship with Roman is only for the perks she thinks will come along with him, then we give it to Roman. He's not a stupid guy, Dean. There's no way he'll waste his time on Eva if we out her for who she really is. She may have won all these little battles over the past few weeks, but she hasn't won the giant war. That one is ours for the taking."

"Don't hate me for what I'm about to say," Dean requested, holding his free hand up defensively, "but don't you think you're a little too obsessed with this chick? If she's not good for Roman, he'll eventually see that, so why don't we let nature take its course? If I'm being honest, Eva doesn't even bug me that much anymore. She's toned it down a lot lately, and I would rather step back and let Roman see for himself who she really is. I shouldn't have to be the one to show him that."

"How can you seriously sit there and spew that crap?" Seth asked, tossing his phone onto the mattress and shaking his head. "You couldn't stand her more than me when she first came around, and I know that because you told me in private. Why are you trying to kiss her ass all of a sudden?"

"I'm _not_ kissing her ass," Dean argued. "I'm trying to keep the peace, and you should do the same. Part of this drama we're starting to have between us and Roman is being created by ourselves. We keep pushing him away by dissin' on Eva, and I don't have time for that anymore. No matter how sneaky the chick might be, she's hot, and if Roman wants to enjoy a hot piece of ass while he's still young, let him do it. No skin off my nose."

"Forget you, man," Seth said, rising from the bed and walking away. "I'll do it myself at Raw next Monday."

Seth gritted his teeth as the fans called his name from behind a barricade in the parking lot. With their arrival to the Dunkin' Donuts Center in Providence, Rhode Island, his mind was set on automatic work mode. He was there to do one job, aside from his scheduled match, and the recording device on his phone was lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to catch the snake known as Eva Marie in a lie. Roman had once again ditched them to travel alone with her to the show, and Dean hadn't had much to say about it, so Seth ignored it, too, no longer caring that the fractures were opening up in their group more quickly than their physical wounds in the ring did.

Seth found himself constantly having to defend his group, to convince everyone that no cracks were forming, but he saw them without wanting to, knowing they were fighting what would eventually be a losing battle. He could accept being expected to go out on his own and find his own success, but he couldn't get down with the way it was happening. If The Shield were going to split up, the main cause shouldn't have been an insincere woman, who wouldn't even be in the company by the end of the next decade. Eva was temporary, but their friendship as men outside of the business was supposed to be forever, and maybe that was why Seth clung to it with such desperation; their bond meant something to him.

As if on cue and lying in wait for their arrival, Eva Marie stood in the middle of the second hallway they turned down, tapping her fiercely red nails on the wall and smirking when she saw them coming. She had tricks up her sleeve, all of which would be meant to get under Seth's skin, and he made the split-second decision not to let it happen. Nobody was going to take him out of his element, so he took a page out of Dean's book and breathed deeply to calm his fraying nerves, determined to bypass her ploys. He sped up, planning on slipping right past her, but she stepped out in front of them, the clicking of her heels accompanying her movement.

"I've been waiting for you boys," she announced, smoothing down her skirt and tipping her head. "You have to hear what's been going on."

"We're in a hurry. We have a match to discuss," Seth said, attempting to circumvent her before a hand came down on his shoulder. _Dean_. Seth rolled his eyes, adding, "Come on, man, we have to go. We don't have time for this."

"Let's just hear what she has to say," Dean said, and Seth wasn't sure if Dean was trying to create an opportunity for Eva to be recorded, but if he was, his timing was poor. Seth couldn't manage to get his phone out and start it without Eva seeing what was going on, so he stood still, waiting for the venom she would spew before they could continue on their way.

"Fine, let's hear it," Seth said, tapping the face of his watch, "but make this quick. I've got stuff to do, and so does Dean. I'm sure you can't relate to that, Eva, since you're hardly ever on the card, but some of us come to the arena to actually work matches."

"Ouch," Eva hissed, waving her right hand, as if she had been burned by a flame. "Who's the mean one now?"

"Seth, knock it off," Dean scolded. Seth hardly knew who his friends were anymore, choosing a woman over their plans to dominate the company. So much for that. Apparently, their planned climb to the top of the ranks in WWE as a group was one Seth would have to make by himself, all the way to the summit, where championships awaited him. "He's sorry; he just has a lot on his mind today and is stressed. What do you want to tell us?"

"I know a secret about Roman," she sang. "You won't believe the conversation he's having in the next room with Vince, Hunter, and Stephanie."

"What are they doing?" Dean wondered.

"A little birdy came by and told me that there are tentative plans in the works for Roman to win the Rumble," she said, beaming proudly, as if the win would be hers, and hers alone. In a sense, it would, because she would feed off of Roman's success like a blood-sucking parasite. Seth wanted to be surprised, but he couldn't. Just about everyone had seen those plans coming, and all he could do was stew about how he had to wait for his chance to be noticed while one of his best friends pulled away and found their own limelight.

"We pretty much figured that might happen," Dean shrugged, unimpressed by her grand announcement. He tugged Seth away by the sleeve of his sweater. "Come on, let's find our locker room."

"Wait!" Eva called out.

"There's more?" Dean asked, coming to an abrupt stop.

"With Batista's return, they can't decide whether they want him to make a big splash and win, or whether they want Roman to finally get his chance to step into the spotlight and take the victory," Eva explained, which made a whole lot of sense. "They want both at the same time and are sort of at a crossroads as to which direction to take. Batista already had his chance to be a star in Evolution, so I personally think that now is Roman's time to shine, but I want you guys to be prepared, because you're about to be left in the dust."

"If this is you trying to stir things up, we're not buying it," Dean said, shaking his head. Eva smiled in that familiar way that made him want to kick her right in the shin. She was finally getting under his skin, and she knew it.

"I think you _are_ buying it, or else you wouldn't still be standing here," she said, grasping Dean's arm and leading him to the side of the hallway as people began trickling by. She lowered her voice, eyes darting furtively before she continued. "I heard Hunter say that Roman is the next big thing, and he wants to take him out of the group and away from you guys so you won't hold him down anymore."

Seth scoffed, pushing a lock of hair away from his face as his messy ponytail slowly unraveled, sort of like his professional life was. "You've got to be kidding me. We're the ones who have been carrying him out there, night after night, while he has his head up his ass, focusing all his attention on you instead of our damn matches. How are we the ones holding him down? I'll answer that: we're not!"

"That's not what Vince or Hunter think, and it isn't what Steph thinks, either," Eva said, digging the knife just a little deeper. "Like I said, the plans for the Rumble aren't set in stone, but they're leaning toward having Roman win, and if that happens, you guys can kiss your chance at success goodbye, because nobody will be paying to see you wrestle anymore. Roman is the breakout star. Why do you think they had Punk make reference to you being the weak link in that promo, Dean? You _do _realize they made him say that because it's how management really feels, right?"

"I'm not buying that for one second," Dean said, but his shaky tone gave his insecurities away. "Unless I have proof of that going on, I'm not falling for it. Management is high on _us_, too, not just Roman."

"And you, Seth," Eva started in, ignoring Dean's calm indignity, for the time being. "Don't you see how badly this is all falling apart? Dean's not the star, Roman's going to get all the attention, and where does that leave you? Dean at least has negative attention going for him, so he's still being noticed to some degree, but you? Nobody will even remember your name by this time next year," Eva cackled, sliding her hands onto her hips as she mocked him. "What was your name again? Was it Sean? No, that wasn't it. Hm...was it Steve?"

"I'm sure that's exactly how it will all play out," Seth said, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Go be obnoxious somewhere else, Eva."

She cleared her throat loudly when he and Dean began making their getaway, somehow goading them into stopping again. They were under the odd spell she had cast, desperate to be free of it, but not finding the strength to turn away. Dean was first to ask, "What is it now? This is the last time we're stopping."

"I know which office Roman's in right now. I could help you listen in on the meeting, if you wanted to," she said. Seth and Dean eyed each other, sensing a trap on the horizon. To erase their lingering doubts, she continued, "It would be a way for you to hear the plans for yourselves, so you can both know for sure that I'm not lying. They're really planning on kicking your guys to the curb, and you should be in on that."

"Don't let her break you," Seth mumbled to Dean, gritting his teeth, but he was alone in his steely resolve. Dean had been hooked like a fish.

"Where are they?" he asked.

Eva smiled and waved him over. "Follow me, Dean."

Seth watched their shrinking forms as they continued down the hallway.

Just before they slipped completely out of sight, he followed their lead.


End file.
